Tales of the Golden Age: The Hagarathan's Curse
by H Max Marius
Summary: In the Fourth year of High King Peter's reign, those who followed Jadis seek their vengeance upon the Pevensies. --A story of family, friendship, loyalty, loss, giants, dragons, magic, and the amazing power of love to conquer the forces of evil.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

An inky darkness swirled about the grotto. The stench of rotting sea-life permeated everything. The Moon stared balefully down upon the vaporous mists as they streamed eerily across the surrounding crags. Hags swayed and chanted in a circle around a large cauldron, its contents bubbling over blue and green flames.

"Water from the Great River's source, plucked from the sea." Meertz, eldest of the Hagarathan, led them.

_"Water from the Great River's source, plucked from the sea." _the hags echoed.

Meertz poured a precious drop from a small vial she wore on a thong around her neck. "Blood of our queen, stolen from us."

_"Blood of our queen, stolen from us."_

Meertz shoved several long, stringy, green, leafy branches into the fire below the cauldron. "Locks of a Willow to summon its spirit."

_"Locks of a Willow to summon its spirit."_

A screeching wail pierced the night as the dryad of the offended Willow tree, unwilling yet untouched, slid to the center of the circle. Before the dryad could give voice to its complaints, Meertz blew dust from a pouch she carried into the dryad's face. The dryad's eyes lost focus and the tree spirit fell limp to the ground.

Swiftly the hags bound the dryad in ropes made of thistles and creeping vines. Two of them picked up the dryad and carried it to the cauldron.

"Spirit of the willow, bound and subdued." Meertz chanted

The two hags lowered the dryad into the boiling cauldron. _"Spirit of the willow, bound and subdued."_

The dryad sank immediately from sight and dissolved into the bubbling mixture.

Meertz pulled from her pouch a hairbrush. Carefully she teased a long hair from it's teeth. "Golden hair of the youngest, arboreal she shall be."

_"Golden hair of the youngest, arboreal she shall be."_


	2. Teenager

**A/N: **This chapter is dedicated to _Straitjacket_ for making this novice feel welcome! Not to mention the enthusiasm she's shown for some of the outlandish ideas I've sent her. And she Beta Reads too... _I think she even plans to teach me to type with a British accent:-) _

Please don't be mad at me I'm not trying to distract her from her own stories...

Next chapter will be a few days in coming.

**Teenager**

_1_

"Lucy?" Susan knocked on the chamber door.

"Do you still have my hairbrush?" Susan asked. 'Four years as monarch's, with everything we could ever wish for, for our own, and Lucy _still_ borrows my things.'

Lucy opened the door. Her long golden tresses glowed in the morning light, haloing her happy twelve year old smile.

"Its not here. I thought you took it back with you yesterday?"

"No, I distinctly remember leaving you using it when I went to breakfast."

"Strange. I'm finished, here, have mine. I'll get another one." Lucy handed over her brush.

As she returned to her room, Susan looked at the golden hairs entwined in the teeth of the brush. 'Oh well, we've shared brushes for years.' She stepped in front of the mirror and began brushing her long dark hair.

While brushing she contemplated the great changes of the last four years. 'I never would have believed that being a Queen could become boring.' She worked the brush through a rather troublesome knot. 'Everything is an affair of State now. If I want to dance, ten stodgy ambassadors are here in half an hour. A ride in the country becomes a parade, complete with cheering crowds and marching bands. Susan, don't even get started on the birthday par...' Her eyes shot wide open.

"Lucy's birthday!" she blurted.

'How could I forget Lu's birthday! She has to be as bored with all this as I am. I wonder, is there some way to celebrate without the entire population of Cair Paravel, if not all of Narnia turning out. Think Susan.

'Brushes. Perfect! I wonder just how many kinds of brushes I can find? I'll corner Ed later and see if he can help me, I only have a few days. Maybe he'll have some ideas to tone down the party too.'

"At least now I know what I will be getting Lucy for her birthday." Susan said to the face in the mirror.

_2_

Teenager. The word just sounded weird to Tumnus. Fauns were very long lived, and measuring one's life by mere groupings of ten seemed rather odd. Especially since this particular grouping of ten only had seven. Lucy had tried to explain it to him but in the end, he had decided that it was more important to make his best friend happy than to try to understand the exact reason why he was doing so.

He'd sought out the High King regarding Lucy's upcoming birthday. Peter's eyes had crossed in a most disturbing fashion when Tumnus had asked his advice on the topic of gifts.

"Thirteen! Already!"

Tumnus had retreated in confusion, uncertain why Peter would be upset and unsettled by his sister's upcoming birthday.

King Edmund's advice had at least been practical.

"You should throw her a party." He paused. "I know! We're all fed up with the Grand Balls and these fancy surroundings! Let us have the party at your house! Simple, homey and fun! And just a few friends!" While well meaning, and a good idea, it still didn't answer the question about gifts. "I'll need to contact the Beavers, and Mr. Fox..." Edmund wandered off mumbling names of those to invite to the party. "The Squirrels, Lucy adores the Squirrels."

Queen Susan's suggestion was the one he followed.

"In other places, I'd give her powders and blushes, but here, perfumes. Pleasant scents that tickle the nose lightly. Smells that evoke memories of beauty and joy."

Susan leaned in conspiratorially. "Floral scents would be a perfect compliment to her golden hair and vivacious personality." She'd whispered. "Wildflowers, definitely."

_3_

Since taking on his duties at Cair Paravel, Tumnus had had little incentive to visit the marketplace. The smells of raw food and other less desirable odors assaulted his senses as he strolled the marketplace searching for a dealer in more delicate scents. He was very glad that he didn't have toes after watching a Centaur step on the foot of a Calormen servant while shying away from an overzealous salesman. As a member of the royal court he'd had to step in to smooth over the hostile reactions that flared outward from the incident. The Calormen's master had left the market satisfied as Tumnus had moved his appointment with the High King up two full days.

None of that helped him in his quest. "Surely someone here is selling perfumes?" He muttered while gracefully dodging around a young fool who was chattering inanely about balance and weight while wildly swinging swords in front of an armorer's stand.

He was on the verge of giving up for the day and was even heading for an alley shortcut to his road home when he finally stumbled across the vendor, an Archenlander by the old woman's appearance and dress. Horrible place to set up a perfume stall, right next to the manure vendor, but the small vials and bottles could be nothing else.

"What do you mean, 'This is a bad place'? This place is perfect! You offend me Faun! Think of what you smell. Think then of what it would take to make you forget that smell! I'll not do business with someone who thinks they can take me by insulting my business sense!" The old woman began boxing up her bottles and vials and trinkets and charms.

"Wait dear madam. I meant no disrespect."

Continuing to pack, she shot back. "I care not what you meant! You should care more what others perceive!"

"Ma'am. I've searched this market high and low for a vendor in perfumes and scents. I must have a gift for the Queen's coming birthday." Tumnus was beginning to sound desperate. "Please forgive my rudeness. I really meant no disrespect."

"Queen, pshaw. As like as not you're seeking to impress some faun-maiden or dryad."

It was now Tumnus' turn to sound offended. "Madam, I'll have you know I am Tumnus, counsellor to the court at Cair Paravel and first Narnian friend of Queen Lucy."

The old woman looked him up and down. Like a weaver seeking flaws in a tapestry.

"You're most likely _not_ whom you claim, but if you show me your gold I might," here she waved a wrinkled finger under his nose, "Might, consent to haggle with you."

Tumnus knew he'd been placed at a disadvantage, and, when finished bartering, he was sure he'd overpaid by a fair amount. But the scent within the vial he held was everything Susan had described. When he smelled it, visions of Lucy, golden locks streaming behind her, joyfully running across flower dappled fields danced through his head.

_4_

Mr. Tumnus' front lawn was amazing! The mountain of presents on the one table, and the amazing cake Mrs. Beaver and Mr. Tumnus had made on the other. Underfoot was the emerald green of the grass, punctuated by the deeply rich colors of the flowers, all under a brilliant blue sky dotted with large cottonball clouds that seemed to offer shade at exactly the right time and for just long enough.

All of Lucy's closest Narnian friends were there. Well, all but Aslan. Lucy loved Aslan so much that at times it hurt, but she still wasn't really sure if Aslan was someone you could casually call 'friend'. Besides, the day was perfect! And since improvement upon perfection wasn't possible, she accepted that Aslan's presence within her heart would be plenty for this day.

The Beavers were sipping tea with Edmund. Chatting about the latest improvements to Beaversdam - the growing community that had sprung up about their little lake.

"Things in your neck of the woods keep growing mate, and you might find yourself in line for a Dukedom." Lucy heard Edmund comment. She giggled lightly on realizing that the more the King talked to Mr. Beaver, the more Edmund sounded like him.

Peter and Orieus were laughing at the antics of the Squirrels. Lucy wasn't really that close to the Centaur commander of the Narnian Armies, but since he accompanied the High King virtually everywhere Peter went, she'd come to accept him as a regular participant in most of the family gatherings.

The Squirrels were chattering back and forth, the youngsters playing tag up and down the nearest trees. Earlier, the squirrels had been chasing all around and through the party, but they'd made so many full speed laps around Susan that everyone feared she was going to swoon from dizziness. Those in attendance were quite amazed when the youngest Squirrel had actually sat still on her lap for a full five minutes, apologizing.

Susan, still recovering from the spins the young Squirrels had taken her on, was seated on a low stool. She was merrily chatting with a talking Robin and offering it bits of cake from her fingers.

Lucy turned and hugged Mr. Tumnus. "Thank you! This is the best birthday I've ever had!"

"You live in a palace where the grandest balls and parties can be held. And yet you treasure a poor gathering like this at my hovel." Tumnus took her chin in his finger and thumb and held her gaze. "I don't think I'll ever quite understand you humans."

"It's not the quantity, dear Mr. Tumnus, it's the quality." She laughed. "There, it is a production of statecraft. Here, it is peaceful, and it is just us friends. Here, I can be ME!" Lucy stood up and began dancing around the field. She danced over to Susan, who made her apologies to the Robin and joined Lucy in dancing.

As Lucy and Susan danced, Mr. Tumnus pulled out his pipes and tried to weave music around their steps, ever a more difficult, yet satisfying, means of playing. By the end of the gig, everyone was either exhausted from dancing, or from playing whatever instrument they brought or could improvise.

Lucy, polishing off a second piece of cake, settled in beside her pile of presents.

Peter had given her a new set of leather armor. "Since I can't seem to keep you from the front lines, and you won't quit outgrowing your previous set." He said as he ruffled her hair.

The Beavers gave her a beautifully crafted jewelry box with a soft velvet lined interior.

Edmund gave her a gorgeous gown, garnet in color with gold cuffs, collar and trim. "My little sister should be the belle of the ball, and this will make sure of it."

Orieus presented her with a short sword and a bow. "My Queen, the portents and guides say the time of peace is near but that not all of your conflicts are yet done. I know your sister has instructed you on the finer points of archery. I have watched your sword work with King Edmund and am impressed. May these humble gifts serve you well and keep you safe."

Susan's gift was a box full of brushes. Brushes with gold inlay. Brushes with jeweled handles. Brushes made of seashell, pearl and onyx. "Surely, in that collection, my dear sister, is a brush you will like better than mine." Susan grinned.

Lucy laughed. "Dear sister, it's not that the brush is yours that I delight so in borrowing it." Lucy unleashed a mischevious grin. "It is that you use it on my hair when I ask the borrowing!"

Susan, suddenly recognizing how Lucy had maneuvered her into this particular corner, laughed and hugged her. She then picked out a brush and went to work straightening out the mess that dancing and Peter had made out of Lucy's hair.

There was one small package left, neatly wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with rough twine. Carefully, Lucy untied the twine, dropping it on the pile of discarded wrappings. She turned to the removal of the paper. Within the paper was a small, padded box. She opened the box and her eyes widened at the elegant perfume bottle she found within. She spritzed a little on her wrist and smelled it.

"Wildflowers!"

She looked over at Mr. Tumnus. Susan was still working on her hair so she couldn't move very far. "Thank you Mr. Tumnus!" She sprayed it on her neck and shoulders. "I love it!"


	3. Sister!

A/N: Thanks again to Straitjacket for Beta Reading... Someday I hope to quit repeating mistakes. :-)

**Sister!**

_1_

The party had begun to break up just after dinner. Peter, Edmund and Orieus were spending the evening in Beaversdam before riding a tour of the marshlands over the next several days.

The girls had accepted Tumnus' hospitality, agreeing to stay the night as his guests. Susan had helped Lucy gather up her gifts and carry them inside Tumnus' neat little house. They would return to Cair Paravel the next morning.

Lucy and Tumnus settled pleasantly into the two seats in front of the fire. The chairs had been one of Lucy's first gifts to Mr. Tumnus after their Coronation. They were identical to the pair that had been destroyed by Maugrim when the White Witch ordered him to arrest the Faun.

"No lullabies this time Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy yawned then grinned. "Not that I need one after today."

"No, my friend, I don't think any of us are going to have trouble sleeping tonight."

Strangely, Susan wasn't tired. She sat on the little stool, which had been brought inside after the party, listening to Tumnus tell stories about Narnia before the 'Hundred Year Winter'. Susan was content to listen to the old friends as they spent the rest of the evening gossiping about the woods.

Slowly their voices faded, until the pair were asleep. Susan put a log on the fire and stretched. She found where Tumnus kept his linens, and moved their feet from the floor and placed them on the stool. With a motherly care, she tucked light blankets around Lucy and the Faun to ward off the chill that would come with the morning.

Susan caught the scent of her sister's new perfume as she leaned in to kiss Lucy goodnight. At the contact, Lucy mumbled almost coherently.

"Oh yes mummy, Edmund is behaving so much better."

This brought a sad smile to Susan's lips, as she thought fondly of the changes that had come over her younger brother. At the same time she wondered how the dear professor had explained their dissappearance to Mum and Dad.

'If there were only some way to bring them here,' she prayed. Not for the first time.

She looked into the bedroom, and even though the bed looked comfortable, she just wasn't tired yet. Glancing out the window she saw the moon beginning to rise.

'A night walk might be nice.'

Before heading out, she went around the room extinguishing candles. When she got to the table where Lucy had placed her gifts, she paused.

"I'd not expected him to pick so well." She whispered, lifting the small perfume bottle. She had been enamored of the scent every since Lucy had sprayed herself with it earlier in the day. Susan had taken every opportunity to revel in the perfume when Lucy was close.

'Lucy won't mind if I try a little.' She thought as she applied it to her wrist.

There was a warm sensation where it met her skin. She lifted her wrist and inhaled deeply. The scent worked itself into her being.

She was standing in the moonlight, on the lawn in front of Tumnus' house.

'How did I get outside?'

Susan looked down and saw she was still holding the bottle. She felt a strange urge and unable to resist, she removed the azure gown that she had worn for the party, letting it fall. In the moonlight, it was like a saffire laying forgotten on the black lawn.

She found herself opening the top of the perfume bottle.

'This is Lucy's, I shouldn't be doing this.'

But she couldn't stop herself. Lifting the bottle, she poured its contents all over herself.

'What am I doing?' She screamed in her head.

'Why can't I stop this?' Echoed back.

Now drenched in Lucy's wildflower perfume, Susan was feeling drawn to someplace deep in the forest, she drifted into the woods, her now soaked white under-gown clinging and glistening in the moonlight. As she went she realized that somewhere along the way she'd kicked off her shoes as well.

'Something very odd is happening.' she was verging on a panic, 'I don't behave like this.'

Susan had been walking in a dreamlike state for hours. Out of control, yet experiencing everything, she had long since lost track of where she was.

'Somewhere south of the Lantern Wastes' she was sure, because she had never glimpsed the northern stars, 'but how far? East? West?'

It was nearing midnight when she came upon a small clearing by a stream. With the moon rising ever higher she danced around the clearing. She twirled past sleeping trees, old hardwoods that looked as if they had survived the worst that the White Witch's winter could throw at them, young saplings that must have sprouted at the first sign of the new spring, and hovering ominously behind them, tall dark pines, like giants looking down on lesser beings.

Susan wanted to scream, but the harder she tried, the faster her body danced. She could feel her body tiring, yet it did not slow. She sensed a pattern to the movement, she was getting closer and closer to the center of the clearing.

She splashed lightly through the stream, tasting the cool water with her toes.

'What a strange sensation.' She was briefly distracted from the struggle to reclaim control of her body.

With the moon at its highest, she found herself on the inner bank of a sweeping curve of the stream, very near the center of the clearing.

A tingle of magic trickled down her spine. The low hum of panic that had accompanied her all evening crashed through her defenses.

'No, I should not be here!'

Susan made a mad mental rush, trying to force her body to move from the spot. She took a step and it was like the ground melted beneath her. One moment she was walking toward the water, the next, she was up to her hips in the soft soil.

'I should be worried about this.' Susan thought as sleep overtook her.

_2_

Lucy was wakened by a breeze blowing through the open door. Bleary eyed, she looked over at Mr. Tumnus, still asleep in the seat across from her. She had a crick in her neck from resting her head against the wing of the chair.

"Oh. I really do have to stop dozing off in Mr. Tumnus' living room." Lucy mumbled. "Every time I'm here, it's cakes and tea, seat by the fire and I'm out."

She stretched, feeling her elbows, shoulders and back popping and cracking. She looked up as Mr. Tumnus shifted position and opened his eyes.

"Good Morning sleepyhead." Lucy said. "Looks like someone left the door open last night."

Mr. Tumnus turned his head.

"So it appears."

He yawned. "I could have sworn I latched it when we came in."

"I'll get the door if you'll start the morning tea going." She started toward the door. "You know, there are times when I think you are far to much of a gentleman for your own good."

"Your friendship, respect, and yes, happiness are always first in my heart, My Queen."

Tumnus turned to the fire. He didn't see Lucy bolt out the door, but he did hear her panicked scream.

"SUSAN!"

Mr. Tumnus came out the door like an arrow.

"Lucy?" He queried.

Lucy held up Susan's azure gown.

"It was just laying out here."

They both charged back inside throwing open the door to the empty bedroom.

"She's not here!" Lucy sobbed. "She would never leave her clothes just laying in a field like that!"

"There now Lu. We can't find or help her if you're a mess." He pulled her into a hug then produced one of the endless supply of handkerchiefs they seemed to trade regularly. "We'll see what's out of place or missing, but let's not touch anything else, alright? She probably just got up early and went for a morning walk."

Mr. Tumnus went outside and let loose a strident whistle. A moment later he was back inside. "The Robin is going to have the birds look around for Susan while he flys over to Beaversdam to collect your brothers."

An hour later, when Peter, Edmund and Orieus arrived, Lucy and Mr. Tumnus had completed an inventory of the house. Aside from Susan, the only thing missing was the perfume that Mr. Tumnus had given Lucy the day before.

"Where did you find the dress Lucy?" Peter was doing a masterful job of covering his worry.

Lucy led them to the spot.

Orieus' nose flared. "Do you smell that?"

"Your nose is better than mine, I'm afraid." Edmund answered.

Orieus took a step towards the woods. "Wildflowers."

"My perfume?"

"Wait. Something is strange about it." Orieus took a few more steps. Lowering himself to all four knees, he picked up the bottle and it's stopper and held them to his nose.

"The heat of the sun has soured the perfume."

He took another wiff, then cringed. "We should have the court apothecary study what is left here. I fear a dark magic has been loosed from this bottle." He sealed the stopper to the bottle.

"What about Susan?" Lucy asked.

"We won't know about her until we know the bottle's contents." The centaur stated.

Peter finally let his worry show. "I am loathe to leave here without Susan, but I don't believe we will be able to find her without the resources at Cair Paravel."

"I will organize the people of Beaversdam to search." Tumnus offered.

"No Faun." Orieus answered, rising to his feet. "The perfume was your gift. We need answers as to it's source."

"Orieus!" Lucy lept between the centaur and the faun. "Surely you don't suspect Mr. Tumnus!"

"No Lucy."

Mr. Tumnus took her by the arm while wiping tears from her eyes with the handkerchief. "He is right, the gift was mine. I must answer for its origins, as best I can, if we are to have any hope of saving your sister."

_3_

The sun broke over the clearing, morning breezes racing outward before it. They whistled through the tops of the trees, catching at the white cloth caught in the uppermost branches of a full and bushy willow. Refusing to relinquish it's prize, the breeze strengthened until the gossamer gown broke free and floated away on the currents.

The rising sun now shown through breaks in the trees, gracing the top of the willow with a golden crown of light. Birds began chirping and soon a small flock had taken roost in the willow's branches. Under the fronds of the tree, a stream burbled happily by.

Susan heard the noises and smiled at the peaceful feeling they evoked. She felt the warmth of the morning sun on her head. Not wanting to wake up yet, she tried to move away. She heard a loud rustling noise, but the heat was still there.

Giving up, she opened her eyes to find herself fifteen feet off the ground and surrounded by the leaves of a willow tree. She tried to move again. The leaves rustled, but she was well and truly stuck.

She tried to look around, and found that if she concentrated, she could see in every direction at once.

'I'm not just UP in a tree, I am literally IN a tree.'

Her memories of the previous evening came back to her.

'I am a tree!'

"Oh Aslan, I've been planted!" She tried to say.

Of course it came out as rustles, creaks, and moans.


	4. Butterflies

A/N: I really want to thank the following people; Favorite Story Listers: fantomdranzerx, Solalea, and xSaphirax, Story Alert Listers: Aella Irene, katyclismic, Kira88 & lickitysplit. Finally, my (awesome) Beta Reader straitjackit! (stay on me about that descriptive!) As a novice, your choosing this story makes me feel that I am actually doing something right.

**Butterflies**

_1_

One thing Lucy was very sure of: Peter was not subtle. Within five minutes of their evening arrival at Cair Paravel, visitors were firmly, but politely removed.

Tiaana, the apothecary, was summoned, instructed and dismissed. "I shall have you an answer by high moon my liege," she said, swirling out of the room, deeply disturbed by the urgency of her charge.

The castle grounds became organized mayhem as unit trumpeteers sounded assembly. The cacophony of running feet, clacking hooves, jingling chain-mail, and clanging plate armor drifted through the high windows of the royal study.

"Sires, hroof."

The head of the royal hounds knelt before them. "Rar we 'oo have a hunn?"

Lucy almost smiled at his enthusiasm, Mudnose always had troubles with his 'T' sounds when excited. That was until she remembered who he would be seeking.

"Of a sort." Peter replied. "We are going to need your very best trackers, Mudnose. Queen Susan is missing."

A stiffled whine whistled from the hound. "Missing?"

"The Queen dissappeared sometime last night from Tumnus' house in the Lantern Wastes. Prepare your trackers. The army departs within the hour to begin the search."

The hound stood.

With great gravity, he replied, "I will assemble my bessd, We shall meed 'he army ad 'he gade."

He bowed.

"Sires, I will find her!"

Edmund interrupted before he could leave.

"Mudnose, could you please send Whiffler to my office?"

"Yes Sire." The hound turned and bounded out of the study.

"Edmund!" Lucy stared at her brother. "I thought you believed Mr. Tumnus was innocent!" Tears were forming in her eyes.

"Lucy, I expected better of you."

"Then why did you send for the truthdog?"

"Why does everyone misinterpret Whiffler's talent?" He looked at his sister. "Come to the questioning. You can hold Mr.Tumnus' hand if it will make you feel better."

_2_

Tumnus sat in Edmund's office, leaning on the desk with his palms against his temples, fingers laced around his horns. His worry was consuming him, he could feel his stomach churning and hoped the guard wouldn't stop him if he ran to the chamber down the corridor.

As they'd come through the gates, Edmund had sent him here with instructions to recall every event of the day he'd bought the perfume. Unfortunately, the more he tried to think about what he did that day, the more his mind wandered to Susan. 'What happened to her?'

'LUCY!' His stomach flipped and his eyes widened in panic.

'She'd sprayed the perfume on herself! Is it going to affect her?' He swallowed hard, his breathing started coming in rapid gasps.

'Calm down Tumnus. It hasn't affected her, so more than likely whatever it is can't, or it would have already.'

He heard clicks in the hall. The guard opened the door, admitting a small puffball of a canine.

"Ah, Tumnus. Is it true, what I heard? Queen Susan, she is missing?"

"Good evening Whiffler, not that there is anything good about it." Tumnus sat up and tried to straighten his disheveled appearance.

"She disappeared from my own house, while we slept after Lucy's party."

Waves of shame and sadness radiated from the faun.

"Terrible, terrible. And the guard on your door?" Whiffler jumped onto a chair and then onto Edmund's desk.

Tumnus ruthlessly suppressed the urge to sob. "It is believed that my birthday gift to Lucy may have played a role."

"A difficult burden to bear that is. What when one gives a gift meaning joy and it turns to ash."

The door opened at that moment to admit Edmund and Lucy.

Whiffler turned to Edmund. "Tumnus was not a knowedgeable participant in the disappearance."

The look of victory in Lucy's eyes heartened Tumnus while simultaneously wounding Edmund.

With great conviction, Edmund said, "I never for a moment believed that he was." The reply aimed as much to Lucy as Whiffler.

"Your interogation talents are valuable for more than just guilt or innocence. If we are to find those responsible for Susan's disappearance, we need to know everything possible about the person who sold Tumnus the perfume."

"I see." Whiffler turned a circle on the desk and sat down facing the faun. "Tumnus, why don't we begin then with the story as you remember it, when you have finished, we will repeat, and I will ask questions. Can we do anything to make you more comfortable first?"

"Some tea, perhaps?"

Lucy and Edmund both rose. "I'll get it Lu. You stay here; I'll only be a minute." Edmund headed toward the door.

"Do you intend to dismiss the guard?" Whiffler asked.

"Not so long as there is the possibility of a threat against Tumnus. So far he is our only witness that can identify the perfume vendor."

"Wise, even this deep in the castle."

Lucy looked up at the exchange. She met Whiffler's eyes and saw genuine concern there. Her dour expression lifted, and her demeanor shifted towards both the little canine and her brother. She moved her chair beside Tumnus' and entertwined her arm with his, lacing their fingers together and grasping hard.

"Thank you Edmund, and you too Whiffler!"

Edmund bowed to her and left for the tea.

Tumnus began his story.

_3_

Word had been sent that Tiaana had managed to tease out the ingredients of the perfume. While they awaited her arrival, Edmund filled Peter in on the details they had managed to glean from Tumnus' interview.

"Gray haired old woman, Archenlander in appearance. Her stall was set up beside the Manure vendor." Peter recited.

"That's not the most telling piece though."

Peter looked up expectantly. "Edmund, this is our sister, lose the judicial dramatics."

"Lucy twigged to it. According to Tumnus, she was the only perfume vendor in the market."

Peter looked at Lucy and Tumnus on the far side of the great hall. "So?"

"According to Lucy, there are never fewer than four perfume vendors at that market! Tumnus had a hard time finding one, when he should have been tripping over them."

"I see. Soon as the market opens, I want every vendor there interviewed. Put our best people on the perfume and Manure vendors."

"Already arranged. They head out after breakfast." Edmund replied. "Did the search teams get off okay?"

"They're heading to Beaversdam first. They'll find out from Mr. Beaver what the locals may have found and organize the search from there. Mudnose and company were going straight to Tumnus' to try and catch her scent."

"Do you think Su's alright?" Edmund finally voiced what they'd been dancing around all evening.

"By the Lion I hope so. If she has come to permanent harm, the Narnian's will lay waste to their own homes to catch the villian who did it."

Peter saw Orieus open the door to the hall. He made eye contact with Peter and nodded. With a hand gesture, all conversation in the room stopped. Lucy and Tumnus came over to stand on Peter's left, Edmund on his right.

"The Royal Apothecary." Orieus announced.

Tiaana, marched into the room. Her eyes were flaring; wisps of diaphanous red cloth were breaking free in her wake, flickering momentarily and disappearing. Righteous anger radiated from every line of her body, the ever present bag of medicines and herbs she carried shimmered indistictly in the waves she gave off. Even her red hair was fluttering and dancing about her head in the heat of her fury.

"My Lords, and Lady. A terrible..." she spluttered, looking for a more appropriate term. "...inexcuseable crime has been committed! This, this, abomination..." She held out the perfume jar and placed it on the table between her and the Monarchs.

"Tiaana," Lucy began when the dryad faltered. "What did that potion do?"

Tiaana took a deep breath and calmed herself. "The purpose of the jar's content was to convert a specific wearer into a tree, in particular, a willow tree."

"What!"

"A tree?"

"Oh Susan!"

Everyone froze when Tumnus collapsed to the floor.

_4_

Orieus' and Peter's swords were halfway out before Lucy could speak.

"He's fainted!"

Tiaana, her anger momentarily forgotten, immediately came over, removing the cover from a pungent smelling bottle she carried in her bag.

Tumnus' nostrils flared and he snorted, trying to clear the odor from his sinuses.

He looked up at Lucy. "You... you are alright." Relief flowed from his voice

"Of course I am." She responded, puzzled. "You collapsed."

Edmund leaned in with a glass of strong wine.

"I was so worried." Tumnus took a swallow of the drink.

"You wore the perfume." Tumnus waved a hand toward Tiaana. "She said it could only effect one person."

Lucy sat down hard on the floor, her color continuing the motion after the rest of her body had stopped. "Let me have a sip of that before you drink it all."

Tumnus handed over the goblet. Lucy took a fair swallow and handed it back.

"I had not even thought about that."

Peter rested a hand on her shoulder, watching the color return to both Lucy and Tumnus' faces.

"Lu, it looks as if Tumnus has been doing enough worrying for the both of you."

Edmund and Orieus had gathered in chairs from around the room. The meeting reconvened with everyone but Orieus seated.

Much cooler, Tiaana continued her description. "As said, this abomination's purpose is to convert a living animal, in this case a human, into a tree. Among the ingredients I identified; were a single human hair."

"That must have been Susan's" Lucy mumbled.

"...a drop of the White Witch's blood."

Edmund paled and closed his eyes. Tiaana paused and reached for her bag again.

"No, I'm fine." Edmund said. "But it does explain the potency of her magics. This blood, by chance would it have been blue?"

Edmund turned a touch green when she nodded in the affirmative. He waved for her to proceed.

Tiaana continued. "It also contained water from the source of the Great River." Here she paused, and her anger reignited.

"...and a Willow Dryad."

"You mean someone ground up a willow tree and put it in the mix?" Peter asked.

"No, something far more unforgiveable. The spirit of the tree was captured and added to the potion alive."

"How horrible! Who would do such a thing?" Lucy asked, weeping for the poor dryad.

The doors to the great hall clanged open.

"The Hagarathan," spoke a voice from the foyer.


	5. Quest

A/N: This update comes quick...Had a couple of chapters backlogged! Thanks again to straitjackit for beating me liberally about the noggin with a brickbat labelled 'Descriptive'!

**Quest**

_1_

At the unexpected sound, everyone in the room jumped. Peter looked over at Orieus. Never, not in the presence of Aslan, not even before the Battle of Beruna, had he seen Orieus look nervous. His feet were shifting, his tail whipped spasmodically, his bronze skin looked flat, and there was even a touch of sweat beading upon his brow.

The High King reached his hand to the hilt of his sword, tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Orieus gave a small shake of his head.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Edmund following the silent exchange. Edmund relaxed then moved his wine goblet as to offer it to the General.

Orieus made a refusal gesture with the hand that was shielded from view of the door, closed his eyes and gathered himself. Within a couple of breaths he was himself again.

Four great centaurs, the size of Clydesdales, their horsecoats golden and their skin bronze, came in carrying an ornate, gilded litter on which rested an ancient but regal female centaur.

Orieus bowed deeply.

"Your Majesties, I am humbled to announce Jaevyan, High Priestess of the Centaur." His voice trembled with the honor of being in her presence.

The litter bearers lowered Jaevyan to the floor and stepped aside. She stood and stepped forward off the litter. The first thing Peter noticed was the intensity of her eyes. When she looked at him, he could tell she saw everything. Her presence filled the room. When the High Priestess raised her arms, torchlight glittering off her golden tunic and her chestnut flanks, he thought that she was going to bump into the walls and ceiling. She seemed to grow larger still as she spoke in a voice flush with warmth and power.

_"Since time before time, _

_we Centaur have read the stars. _

_We have studied the portents. _

_Once we did all for the good of the Centaur. _

_Then came the time when we knew the Great Lion. _

_Now we do all for the good of Narnia!"_

"In service to others we find life!" Orieus, the litter bearers, and the Centaur Guards outside the door all chanted.

Peter, Edmund and Lucy all stood and bowed in welcome.

"High Priestess Jaevyan, you are welcome to our council." Peter indicated an open position in their circle. He was quite surprised to discover that she was only a half head taller than himself. "Sage advice is sorely needed."

"I see by your demeanor that the warning I bring arrives after its sorrow."

"According to the our court apothecary," Peter nodded towards Tiaana, "our dear sister, Queen Susan, has been turned into a Willow tree."

"Yes, by deep, dark, and better forgotten magics. The portents were muddled. She is the elder sister?"

Lucy answered. "Yes, Susan was the older."

"Is, my dear. Is. The portents indicated that the threat was directed against the younger. Is there by chance something of shared value between you that has gone missing?"

Lucy looked at Tiaana.

"You said that one of the ingredients was a human hair?"

Tiaana nodded.

"Susan's brush!" Lucy remembered the morning a week ago when Susan had come looking for it.

"Ah, that explains the confusion. Your sister used this brush on your hair?"

Lucy started to nod.

"I see that she did child." Jaevyan smiled and winked at Lucy. "I sometimes forget that my mind and my mouth are connected, Young Queen. Prerogative of age."

Jaevyan closed her eyes and began to sway gently. Her arms rose and moved as if she was sliding pictures in front of her. Indistinct puffs of vapor seemed to appear where she moved her hands. Her eyes opened and she looked into the mists she had conjured.

"The Hagarathan Elder, Meertz, sees the youngest as a threat. Valiant, she is the glue that binds the rule. They seek to eliminate the glue. Using disguise they steal a brush from the youngest's chamber. Unknown to them, the brush is that of the elder. Yes. As they make the potion, it is dark, they cannot see the hair color, just that it is a hair."

Jaevyan opened her eyes. She smiled at Edmund. "In answer to your first question, my King, the Centaur see the portents with their own minds; we have no need of crystal and glass trinkets. Ask your second question."

"W...Wh..." Unsettled, Edmund cleared his throat, and his mind. "Who are the Hagarathan?"

"Most know them as Hags. Hagarathan is the proper name they were given at the beginning of all things."

"We must round them up and force them to release Susan and return her to us," Edmund said, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"It would do no good as they know not how," Jaevyan replied.

"Then Susan is lost to us." Clinging to Tumnus' arm, Lucy began sobbing.

"Have faith child. They know not, but I do."

_2_

Lucy dried her eyes on the handkerchief Tumnus surreptitiously handed her. Edmund leaned forward in his chair and Peter felt himself straightening in his seat. In three words, Jaevyan had lightened the mood tremendously.

"It will not be easy. There are things we must gather that are neither near nor easy to acquire. We must find her tree and see to its continued safety, for the Hagarathan will not be satisfied until her spirit is boiled down into some new potion. Finally, the potion took effect on the full moon. We have only until the next full moon to affect her return or the change becomes permanent."

"To save our sister, we would move Mount Pire with our bare hands if necessary," Peter answered.

Jaevyan nodded.

"Peter, Edmund, Lucy, Tumnus and Orieus. You will each have a quest. Remember time is short."

Jaevyan took Lucy by the hands.

"Upon my arrival, I took the liberty of having your fastest ship prepared to sail within the hour. Lucy, your mission will be the most dangerous, yet for you it carries the least peril, for Meertz and her sisters cannot reach you there. On the Island of Terebinthia you will find the Box of Elgyn. It is an applewood box with The Great Tree carved on its cover. It contains dried fruit from the Tree of Protection that kept Jadis out of Narnia for nine-hundred years."

"Meertz seeks to become a new Jadis, it is fitting that she be defeated by that she believed her mistress had conquered." The Seeress shook her head, raven hair rippled all the way down her back to her tail. "The box is in the possession of the Guardian of Terebinthia. By whatever means necessary, you must acquire it."

"Terebinthia, Box of Elgyn, made of applewood. Guardian of Terebinthia?" Lucy had met the King and Queen of Terebinthia, but had never heard of the Guardian.

"I am afraid that is all the portents would reveal to me."

"Then I go to gather my gear. Good luck my brothers! Good luck Orieus!"

She leaned over and hugged Tumnus in the seat where he was still recovering. "Good luck Mr. Tumnus!"

"Leave me a guide and I will see you at Susan's tree before the next moon." Lucy swept from the room.

Jaevyan bowed to the High King. "Peter, you must find the brush. It was discarded on the coast where the potion was prepared, somewhere in giant lands north of the River Shribble. The Hagarathan may have realized by now that they ensorcelled the wrong sister, and they may also be looking for the brush."

Peter nodded. "Looks like I get to make that tour of the marshlands after all."

Jaevyan turned to face Edmund.

"Your mission presents almost as much challenge as Lucy's. You must capture the Hagarathan Elder known as Meertz. On a thong around her neck she carries a vial containing the blood of the White Witch. We must have her alive and the vial intact to attempt the conversion. She will move frequently, and be well guarded. Her weakness is that she seeks the tree so she may gloat before she renders it's spirit."

Edmund went pale at her mention of the Witch he had once served.

"It is well that you are wary young King. She is masterful with her tongue and will attempt to play your past sins against you."

"Tumnus," Jaevyan looked wistful for a moment. "No better friend than you could any being ask for."

Tumnus straightened in his seat, his look regaining some of its lost confidence.

"Would that I could send you with Lucy, but you must track down as much of the potion as you possibly can. Others were sold it as perfume over the days the vendor was there. The more of it we acquire, the more chance of success the reversal will have."

Peter grasped Tumnus' arm. "You shall have the resources of the crown at your disposal. Spend what you must to gather the rest of the potion."

Tumnus met the High King's eye. "I am sorry that I have brought your family sorrow, Your Majesty."

Anger at how he'd been used replaced his worry and restored his strength. He stood. "If there is a drop of that wretched poison left in this land, I will find it."

"I'll have all of the vendor interviews forwarded to you as well," Edmund added.

"I thank you, for you help, and your belief in me, Sire."

Jaevyan turned to her kindred.

"Orieus, favored son."

The Centaur General lowered his head.

"Find Susan and protect her at all costs. If the Hagarathan gather so much as one leaf from her tree, they will be able to summon her spirit to wherever they choose. And we would have no hope of stopping them."

_3_

The willow tree shook violently. Leaves fell and birds scattered across the clearing. Susan wanted to scream! No matter what she tried, she couldn't break her spirit free from the tree.

'How do Dryads do this!'

She tried again, and once more the tree shook. She heard a crack and felt a sharp pain from what was once her right hand. Looking that direction she saw a small broken limb. Great sobs shook her. At every movement, pain rippled back into her, but she couldn't stop crying.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them she was standing in a golden meadow. The sky was the rich blue of a clear winter day. The air carried the crisp freshness of new fallen snow, yet it was warm, comfortably so. Flowers were splashed across the golden hill surrounding her. Trees were scattered in small clumps to the limits of her vision.

"Daughter of Eve, why do you weep?"

She looked toward the voice. "Aslan!"

She looked down at herself and realized she looked human. She lowered her arms which had been spread out above her. She cradled her sore right hand against her chest. "Have you undone the magic that was used against me?"

"No Susan, I have merely called you briefly into my land."

"Oh, then you know that I have been turned into a tree?" Her comment carried a bit of an edge.

"And that you are now a tree spirit. Yes." A subtle growl flowed below the words.

"I'm sorry Aslan. I've been trying to separate myself from that tree all day and I have gotten quite frustrated. Then I broke a limb and it hurt my hand. I'm afraid it's made me snippy." Not wanting Aslan upset with her, she walked over and laced the fingers of her left hand in his mane. She could feel his rumble.

"I should be more patient. I should never have taken it out on you." A strange feeling made her add, "Or my tree."

The rumble changed tone, The Great Cat purred.

"Is there anything you can do to free me?"

"What I can do about your condition, I have already set in motion. Your friends and family will soon depart on their various missions, with luck they will return with what you require." The great cat paused and nuzzled her briefly.

"Susan, You too have a quest to fulfill."

She buried her face in his mane. "Aslan, I will do whatever I must."

"You must become a Dryad in every way. Body, Heart, Mind, and Soul. Only then will it be possible for the magics the others work to release you."

"But how will I learn that?"

"Assistance is already at hand."

Aslan touched his nose to her forehead and she was back in her tree.

"'Allo'. You okay in there?"

_4_

Susan looked out to see a boy standing by her trunk. He looked to be about fourteen, dressed in a loose fitting tunic and baggy short trousers. His skin had a slightly golden sheen, with eyes a deep ocean green and the most outrageous shock of red hair.

Susan tried to answer him, but again all she got were creaks and moans.

"I saw you weeping." He laughed. "Kinda funny that. Not that you were weeping, no, that wasn't funny."

He tried to look serious, but he couldn't hold it.

"It's just...hehe, well... you're a Willow... and you're Weeping!" He gave up and collapsed on the ground in a fit of laughter.

Susan desperately wanted to be furious at the whelp, but the more she thought about it, and the more she pictured it, the funnier it became. Finally she started shivering with laughter herself.

'Leave it to some silly kid to make a pun out of my misery!'

The boy sat up. "I see you're feeling a bit better! Oh. Looks like you've hurt yourself. Can you heal it?"

Susan twisted herself side to side and hoped he could interpret the answer.

"Would you like me to?"

She made her limbs move up and down.

"Yes and No!" The boy sprang to his feet. "Not bad to be only a half day old!"

She felt a strange sensation as he clambered up her limbs. She could feel every grasp and pull as he moved. She stifled the urge to slap him for where it felt like he planted one of his feet. Everywhere he touched sent surges through her nerves. Grabbing the broken limb, he breathed on the break, held it in place and squeezed hard.

Susan felt the limb grow back into place, the pain fading.

He leapt back down. Susan's heart skipped a beat, or it would have had it still been there. The drop was nearly 25 feet from where he leapt. He landed like a cat and sauntered back over to what she considered her front.

"I'm from the Ash tree over on the west side of the clearing."

He grinned up at her. "Name's Fisrahd Ashe. Friends call me Fiz. Say it sounds like the wind in my leaves."


	6. Separation

A/N: Today's Date 6/15/06. Why is this important? It will be at least a week, possibly more before the next update! As you have all discovered in the previous chapter, this story is now taking off in Seven different directions! In order to do the Quest's proper justice, I am going to write each of them out and then paste appropriate sections from each story together to make chapters have the proper flow and timing. So never fear, I am still pounding away on the story. If you are an addicted click through reader, I highly suggest you add this story to your alerts, so you will know when the updates begin again! (wow this is long!) Thanks again to my Beta, Straitjackit, for the words of wisdom and sparkling flashes of humor!

**Separation**

_1_

The whelp actually bowed. Not very well, since he was craning his neck backwards to look almost directly into her point of vision. Susan looked down on the outrageous grin Fiz wore. She leaned herself slightly towards him. At least she was getting better at making the tree move.

"Ah, My Little Willow, there's some debate among the local residents as to whether you are really one of us." He plopped down on the ground, looking expectantly up at her.

"I'm not! I'm a human that has been cursed..." She stopped, for the boy was on the verge of cracking up again.

"Quick," he laughed. "I'm guessing, by all the creaks and moans you just made, that you are some other type of being who has been blessed to become one of us!"

'Blessed?!?' Susan started twisting.

"No? You mean you are a Dryad?"

She froze.

"But to appear in a clearing full grown and unable to leave your tree?" He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you are a Dryad from somewhere else, cursed and imprisoned! Hmm, there are stories."

He popped to his feet, a strange gleam in his eye. He walked up and planted a kiss on her trunk.

Susan jerked involuntarily at the contact, her lips tingling. Again, she had to stop herself from trying to slap him. She was a tree, how was he to know where his lips had just landed?

'Oh, the sensation though.' She shivered.

He pulled back, the smile fading somewhat.

"Ah well, I had hopes, dashing young male Dryad that I am. Dreams of releasing the beautiful, and grateful, nymph from her prison. On the other hand, what would an Ash/Willow sprout look like?" He stuck his lower lip out.

She wondered if perhaps he really had known exactly where he had kissed her. In spite of her embarrassment at the contact, she felt sorry for him. She drooped when she realized that he had truly believed he was trying to free her, and it hadn't worked.

"Nothing to it then!" His sun-bright smile had returned. "Guess we'll have to do this the way it happened with me. We'll work on the assumption you have to relearn as a babe!"

A sudden commotion stirred around the periphery of the clearing. Fiz cocked his ear.

He looked up at her. "Hags are coming! The others are going to blur the grove."

Fiz looked panicked. His head swiveled from her tree to his own on the far west of the clearing. He looked at her, she could tell he had just been struggling with something very serious inside of him.

"I have to hide, but there's no time to get back to my tree. I know we only just met, and it is a bit forward, but would you mind if I hid in your tree?"

Susan had done a bit of hiding in trees herself once. She saw no problem with the young Dryad secreting himself among her branches, although if he touched her chest again...

She moved her limbs up and down.

"Alright. Be natural, only move with the wind!"

He walked up beside the tree, stretched his arms upward and leaned into the trunk.

_2_

Susan felt his contact through the entire length of her body. She could sense their hands intertwined and feel the subtle difference in movements between them. She'd had no idea that this was what he'd meant by asking to hide in her tree.

"Well, this is cozy," she heard him say.

'Cozy! I'm squished!'

"Sorry." She felt him shift backwards. "Better?"

'Much...Wait a second!' Hope and anger waged a short war within her, shock won. "You can hear me!"

'Don't shout! ...and think, don't speak. Remember, natural movements.' His thoughts came to her like a whisper.

'Sorry. How long before the Hags are gone?' She was worried, connecting their sudden presence with the perfume that had so changed her.

'Dunno. Guess I was right. You feel like a full grown Dryad.'

'I'm not. A Dryad, that is. I'm... I was human. I was bewitched by a potion hidden in a perfume. The enchantment brought me here. I fell asleep and woke up a tree.'

'Human? Full human, like in the prophecy?' She could feel his excitement.

'The prophecy was fulfilled nearly five years ago. I...was Queen Susan. I guess I'm just Willow now.' She started to sob.

'Shh. Hey, if you move the Hags will find us. Shh.' Susan sensed him move closer and then he wrapped himself completely around her. The contact was comfortably intimate, like when she used to cuddle Lucy after a nightmare, she felt warm and hugged. 'Soo-szahn. Pretty name for a non-arboreal. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Susan Willow.'

He remained wrapped around her for an indeterminable amount of time, occasionally cooing reassurances to her wounded psyche.

Later, feeling better, Susan surrendered to the urge to ask him questions. 'How did you not know the prophecy had been fulfilled?'

Fiz unwrapped himself from around Susan. She was surprised when she realized that she missed the contact. She felt him withdraw completely, but for the contact that couldn't be avoided in the tight confines of the trunk.

'Suffice it to say that some in this glade have run their roots a little too deep.'

He changed his voice to deep and gruff. 'It's a trick! That witch is trying to make us reveal ourselves. I won't fall for it!' He changed again, to high and whiny. 'The pines are still there. Tall, taking all my light. If the prophecy is fulfilled, why do they still dominate us?'

'But the summers. The return of the natural cycle?'

'They're too bound up in their own bark to go find out, and they have enough strength to stop those of us who want to. I'm starting to feel stifled.'

'Oh sorry.' She tried to move backward and make more room.

'Not that.' She could feel his grin. 'I've been in this glade a hundred and fifteen years. With luck, I'll see at least thrice that more. I saw and survived that horrible winter. Had I been any younger I most likely wouldn't have. Many fellow sprouts didn't.

'I want to visit Cair Paravel, to talk to the Great River Naiad, leave tendrils of myself elsewhere. I want to live and see this world. But that old Oak runs things like he was made of iron, not wood.'

_3_

They spent a rather convivial, if cramped, afternoon learning about each other. Susan soon confirmed her suspicion that Fiz had a reputation as a scoundrel among the other trees, but she could tell that he had a good heart. Susan told him of the balls and parties, the pressures and duties of ruling Narnia. Every so often, Fiz would look outside then say, 'Still hiding.' Then off they'd go on another topic.

Finally, he stuck his head outside, pulled back and said, 'All clear.'

'Okay, My Little Willow, like we discussed, close your senses to everything but the joy of the life around you. Feel that life, make it a part of you and become a part of it. Ready?'

'I think so.'

"Watch me leave, feel the change. It's not quite the same, as this isn't my tree, but the experience should help.'

He stepped out of the tree.

After spending hours sharing the space with Fiz, the trunk suddenly felt very empty.

"Okay Susan, let's start simple. Relax. Think of the burbling noise of the stream. All that is in front of you is water. Lean your face forward."

Slowly, Susan's facial features emerged from the tree trunk. Her vision narrowed down to straight ahead. She turned her head, and it responded without rattling the tree. She broke into a huge smile.

Fiz, on the other hand, looked crestfallen.

"What's wrong Fiz? Did I forget my nose?" Susan crossed her eyes to see the tip of her nose.

Fiz smirked, then he looked at her cross-eyed expression and laughed. "Nothing important. I might tell you later."

Susan stuck her tongue out at him and pulled her head back into the tree to do the exercise again.

After a few successful runs with popping her face out of the tree to speak, Susan felt she was ready to try stepping out of the tree.

"Are you sure? Separating yourself from the tree is not a step to be taken lightly."

Susan leaned her head out of the tree and nodded. "I have to learn to do this."

"Okay, when you first step out, you will feel weak. I'll be here to catch you if necessary. If you get too tired, just step into the tree; it will always accept you back."

She leaned out of the tree again. "Yes dad, you worrywart." Her eyes danced with the laughter she expressed. After fighting to get out of the tree all morning, all it had taken to get free was to surrender to the Dryad within her. She bubbled with the life she felt all around and within her. She gathered waves and strands of that life to herself until she felt ready to burst with the joy of it.

"Okay, same as before, lean out." He held her eyes with his own. "Don't forget to step forward... Good... Good."

There was a dragging against her body as the wood of the tree resisted her departure. Susan could feel a slight scratchy sensation, like being between flannel sheets, as she slid out of the trunk of the tree. Finally she was standing beside the Trunk. She could feel a cool breeze blowing against her body, not only her body, but her tree as well. She felt the urge to sway in time with her tree's branches.

Like stepping ashore after being at sea, she felt a little woozy. Without thinking, she put her hand against the trunk to steady herself. "Hey! I didn't fall in!"

"Your tree always knows your intentions. You didn't want in, so it supported you."

Susan looked at her hand against the bark of the Willow. Her pale, ivory skin was now a rich creamy beige. As she looked, she could see a greenish flush spread across her hand. She reached her other hand up and pulled a lock of hair around in front of her. What was once raven had become a rich brown, matching the bark of her tree. Her hair even grew tiny copies of the willow leaves.

Fiz cleared his throat.

Susan looked over at him and he held her eye contact. His skin had a strangely golden hue to it. He opened his mouth to speak as his eyes flickered downward and immediately back up.

Susan looked down, admiring her new, rich skin tone, the way it flowed evenly from her shoulders, smoothly onto her legs and down to her toes.

Her look snapped back to Fiz. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his jaw was moving, but no sound came out.

She looked back down; the beige was darkening with a definite hue of green. Warmth rose in her cheeks.

Susan screamed and leapt back into the tree.

_4_

She stuck her face back outside the tree. She now recognized that Fiz was blushing outrageously, but that didn't stop her from lashing into him.

"How could you?!"

"Wa..w.." Fiz dropped to a sitting position on the ground. Still unable to speak coherently, he just stared at Susan's face.

"I was... I... All you did was stare!"

Fiz lowered his head between his hands, massaging his temples. His jaw still working soundlessly.

"Say something!"

"W...Wow."

"Wow? WOW?!" Susan's fury was beginning to shake the ground around the tree.

All of the sudden, Fiz's words arrived in a rush. "You're g-g-gorgeous. I'm sorry. I tried to say something, but I couldn't speak. Oh, they can cut my tree down right now. Did I say I'm sorry? Clothes are so second nature, I completely forgot! I'll show you the trick, it's dead easy..."

"FORGOT?!" Birds launched from the trees outside the clearing, fleeing to find more peaceful surroundings.

In her fury Susan was leaning further and further forward. She had her right hand raised in a fist, shaking it at Fiz.

"Susan. I'm sorry! Stop!"

She continued to lean further forward out of the tree.

Fiz pivoted around on his seat so he had his back to Susan.

"Are you afraid to face me?!"

"No, Your Majesty! But I am already in trouble for looking upon you without your permission, and you are leaning rather far out of the tree!"

Susan looked down, yelped and pulled herself back into the tree. She huddled there inside the trunk.

After what felt like an eternity, she felt Fiz lay a hand on her trunk. He spoke so quietly, she had to strain to hear him. "I really am sorry. You are so beautiful, it took my breath away. When you come out of the tree, think about the leaves, then think about what you want to be wearing." He paused. "I'm sorry."

He began to walk away.

Susan looked out and whacked him with one of her limbs as he passed.

He stopped. Shoulders slumped and head bowed, he didn't bother to turn around. "I deserved that. If it will make you feel better, do it again."

Susan didn't move.

With a heavy sigh, Fiz resumed following the line of his tree's shadow. Leaving the weeping willow glowing golden behind him.


	7. Departures

**A/N:** Okay, looks like I at least have a start on the Quests! Yay! Thanks again to Straitjackit for getting my head screwed back on straight when it comes to this story. (She's been a bit busy, so this chapter may see an update once she gets the 'I don't trust myself' beta back to me!) Updated 6/27/2006

**Departures**

_1_

The bow of the _Transcendent Herald_ rose to challenge the rollers at the mouth of Cair Paravel's harbor as the ship reached across the freshening sea breeze. Lucy watched the flecks of luminescent foam swirl in the vessel's wake. The near full, but waning moon providing a magical illumination to the water.

Her brothers and Mr. Tumnus had accompanied her as she shepherded her gear to the docks. Their own quests did not sound easy, particularly Edmund's. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes at the mention of recovering the vial of Jadis' blood.

_"Trust in the strength Aslan gave you. He believes in you, as do I,"_ she had told him.

Peter flashed Edmund a quirky smile at Lucy's advice. He had then requested a description of the brush, which she provided in as much detail as possible. She kissed her brothers farewell, hugged Tumnus, and boarded the ship.

The _Transcendent Herald_ was the newest vessel in the Narnian fleet. The ship was long and fast with an eagles head prow and great eagles wings sweeping down the forward two-thirds of the rail. Her twin masts each carried a single lateen rigged sail. The forward mast, being about three quarters the height of the mainmast, carried a proportionally smaller sail. Three flying jibs were strung from the forestay, anchored just aft of the Eagle Head. A bank of oars, now stowed, down either side gave her manoeuvrability in calm air and harbors.

Lucy looked up at the Narnian banner trailing to port above the crow's nest atop the mainmast. In the moonlight, the red banner looked black and the golden lion shone silver. They were barely under way, and yet the stars already seemed brighter and sharper in the sky.

Approaching one in the morning, Lucy knew she should be tired; she had been up since dawn. The rush of setting off on her quest and her continuing worries about Susan refused to let her mind settle. With four days sail before them to reach Terebinthia, Lucy decided that there would be plenty of time for sleep later.

She sat on the deck and leaned her back against the starboard rail. Her cabin held no attraction for her except as a place for her gear, including her new armor and weapons.

"Am I sure I will recognize the Box of Elgyn?" Lucy muttered, her mind wandering back to Jaevyan's instructions.

The Great Tree was depicted on Peter's royal robes with equal frequency to the image of Aslan, but she had already noticed that no two of the images were exactly alike, as each artisan gave their own interpretation to the symbols.

"Why have I never heard of the Guardian of Terebinthia? Surely such a position should have been mentioned in the coaching we had before King Gess and Queen Elise made their state visit?"

The rocking of the _Herald_ fell into a steady rhythm as her sails pushed her to full speed. The soft murmurs of the watch crew and the smell of the sea air conspired to rob Lucy of the furious energy that had driven her since finding Susan's gown on Tumnus' lawn. Her reserves spent, Lucy fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of happy times with her sister.

She didn't even stir when the Captain gently picked the young queen up and carried her to the stateroom.

_2_

The air in Edmund's office was growing stale. It reeked of the odors of the market that clung to the near endless line of vendors and market patrons that had paraded through the door since lunchtime; anyone whom the initial interviewers felt had any contact with the perfume vendor.

Unfortunately, no one had seen the perfume vendor leave. No one had a good description of her. The manure vendor, who'd just departed but left his miasma behind, barely remembered her setting up shop. Even Tumnus' description of her had been vague.

"At least Tumnus is getting something useful out of this!" Edmund fumed.

All they'd managed to establish so far was that all of the regular perfume vendors were mysteriously sick for four days and all had gotten better within an hour of each other. The Faun had already taken that information and made posters offering royal coin for the perfume bottles the false vendor had sold.

"Sire, we have learned more than you might think," Whiffler said.

"How so?" The King turned to his canine assistant.

"The convenient timing of the illnesses provides independent verification of the Centaur Priestess' words." Whiffler sat down on Edmund's desk, his nose close to a vase of fresh flowers.

The small dog stuck his nose among the stems and took a deep breath. Edmund walked over and opened the door. When he turned back, Whiffler stated his next point. "We are having Tiaana run tests that may identify the agent that made them sick. There are very few potions to make one ill that are controllable by magic. When the Apothecary identifies the ingredients of the potion, we should have a very specific area to begin our search."

The thick odor was unaffected by the attempt to generate a breeze. Edmund lifted a scented handkerchief to his nose. Whiffler smiled upon spotting the embroidered 'T' on it.

The dog continued. "There are a very limited number of routes across the mountains and no one saw the woman on the roads to or from Archenland. It is therefore likely that she came from somewhere north rather than south."

Whiffler sneezed.

"We have identified the Inn she stayed at, and have interviewed the innkeeper. Our people are even now studying her room in the search for any signs she might have left behind. To have only been at this a single day, we have learned quite a lot," the little canine explained.

"But none of it is fast enough!" Edmund pounded his fist on the table.

"Next interview. Shellfish vendor." The little dog took a disdainful sniff of the room's overthick air as he looked up from the list. "What say we do this one in the garden?"

_3_

"Fool!" The force of the exclamation rattled rocks loose from the roof of the cave.

The Hagarathan Elder spun around, her ragged grey cloak swirling streams of dust in the torchlight. She was furious. How could her sisters not find someone who had been marked by their own magics?

"But Lady Meertz, the trail just vanished." Prostrate behind Meertz and afraid to raise her eyes, the cowering hag addressed the rock floor.

"Unlikely!" Meertz swept back round. Her piercing gaze drilling through the unfortunate minion. "You have now failed me twice!"

Gathering her cloak, the Elder settled on the only seat in the cave, a large stone chair. She glanced at the room's third occupant, a hulking Minotaur. Ice frosted her words as she again addressed the other hag.

"I am inclined to believe that someone is tampering with my design, and that someone is looking like YOU!" Her voice dropped into a snarl. "Find that willow tree or I'll boil _you_ down for the next potion!"

Terrified, the hag scrambled from Meertz's presence.

"This can still be salvaged, My Lady," the Minotaur beside her offered.

"How so? First that fool brings me a brush from the wrong sister, then she fails to capture the girl during her vulnerable period after the potion began to take effect!" Meertz was already having second thoughts about having let the other hag leave the room alive.

"The family is not whole," the bull headed man beast pointed out. "Take advantage of the opportunities that situation presents."

"What opportunities?" She snapped at him. "The youngest still binds them!"

The Minotaur closed his eyes and shook his great head slightly. Taking a deep breath, he looked the Hag Elder squarely in the eye.

"Do you not think that they might seek the means to undo what you have done to the girl? Follow their trackers and you will find her tree." He paused, giving the statement a chance to sink in. "Think of what they might need to undo your spell! Where will they go to find it?"

Unsettled by the Minotaur's suggestion, Meertz snapped back. "There is no way to undo the spell!"

"Are you certain?"


	8. Connections

**A/N:** Nice to have a few chapters in the queue while I keep working ahead! It's great to see the hit counts going through the roof on stats, but please review, as what you say makes me better at this! Thanks again Straitjackit, don't know if we're keeping each other sane or not, but we're getting stuff done!

**Connections**

_1_

Susan was miserable. She found herself wishing Fiz would come back to her tree so she could apologize for exploding at him.

'If he'd learned to step in and out of trees as a sprout, then it would make sense that clothes would be second nature to him.'

'Besides, he's the only friendly face I've encountered.' She'd already seen a couple of the other Dryads looking her way with sour expressions.

To her dismay, earlier that morning, Susan had discovered that she couldn't walk more than a step or two beyond her tree; any further and an intense weakness overcame her. Afterwards, feeling bored, she spent some time stepping in and out of her tree experimenting with different gowns, to see what went well with her new complexion.

Susan began with a variation of her coronation gown, but the color clashed with her new complexion. Some gowns in dark reds worked well, but she wasn't really happy with them. All of the dresses had been styled after the gowns she wore regularly in Cair Paravel. She'd settled on dark greens in the formal cuts and the softest of fabrics. Her favorite very much resembled the dress she'd first been given upon arrival at Aslan's camp.

She sat on the bank of the brook that bubbled by her tree, dangling her feet in the cool water. She felt something pulling at her hair, and was puzzled until she looked up in the tree and saw a wren building a nest in one of the higher branches. Following a strange impulse, she gathered up long grasses and some twigs her tree had shed and climbed up into the limbs. The wren, not a talking beast, looked at her and chirped.

On reaching the limb where the bird was constructing its nest, she held out the grass and twigs to it. The wren bobbed up and down a couple of times and chirped again. It took a long twig and carefully began weaving it into the structure. Seeing the pattern, Susan began to help make it large and strong. Susan found herself smiling. Mentally, she reached out and felt the life of the wren; she sensed its joy at its fine new home, and its thanks for her assistance and welcome.

Every so often, while working on the nest, she would scan the trees around her. Finally, she spotted Fiz's shock of red hair moving among the trees. Not thinking, she'd immediately leapt down and taken off at a run to apologize to him. She got about a half dozen steps past the tree when the strength went out of her and she collapsed.

"Fiz!" she tried to yell as she fell.

She couldn't move. She didn't have the strength to even pull herself along the ground. The wren swooped down and landed on her shoulder. She could feel its concern. She concentrated on a mental picture of Fiz and whispered his name.

The little wren took off like an arrow from the string. Susan could feel herself fading. 'How am I going to be a Dryad if I can't leave my own tree? Dryads care for all trees! Why am I trapped?' Tears rolled down her cheeks.

She felt the ground trembling, then she was lifted gently into the air and she passed out.

_2_

The fresh smell of the land failed to penetrate the High King's gloom. Sensing their liege's troubled spirit, his guard focused their attention outward to allow him to come to grips with his thoughts.

He was riding up the coast north of Cair Paravel. Passing through one of the occasional small woods, he paused a moment to brush his hand along the trunk of one of the tall trees. A female dryad came up to him. For a moment he thought... but then she came closer, and he remembered that he had seen no willow trees in this grove.

"Your Majesty." She bowed. "Word of what has become of your sister is spreading rapidly among the trees. Your family's quests have become our own..."

Beyond that, his preoccupied mind barely remembered that he had been spoken to. As his journey continued, his thoughts turned again to his family.

'Lucy is the adventurous one.'

Peter fought to keep his disquiet from reaching the horse.

'Not that it should have been her.' Peter quashed the urge to blame his youngest sister. 'Never!'

'But, I always expected that my problems with this kind of thing would revolve around Lucy.' He actually smiled for a moment when he remembered that Lucy was the original target and this issue did revolve around her.

'I'd prepared myself to deal with something happening to Lucy, what with her running off to battle, charging into caves, and dashing to shake hands with anything that looked like it might have one.'

Peter shook his head. He looked up at the clouds blowing in from the east.

'Susan never runs off looking for adventure. She stays close to home, where she's safe.'

Peter smiled again thinking about how hard he had pleaded with her to accompany the family to Archenland for young Corin's last birthday. Thinking of the neighboring land's young Prince sent his thoughts off on a new tangent.

'With Susan, I always worry more about the next Prince Ever-So-Charming...' He snorted. 'Greasy is more like it. A few well placed growls, a fierce glower and Edmund fiddling with his sword usually separated the posers from the serious ones.' To date, luckily, Su had shown little interest in any of their advances, poser or prince.

He looked around at the small troop of guards accompanying him. A light drizzle began to fall, sealing his dreary mood.

"Two more days to the marshes."

_3_

Susan awakened inside the Willow. She felt a pressure against her legs. Looking down, Fiz was dozing against her trunk. Carefully, as to not wake him, she stepped out the back side of her tree. She dropped down beside him and leaned back, feeling the rough bark against her back. She looked at him closely while he slept, he looked older, more serious. She could tell he was dreaming, and she remembered some of the things he had said about surviving the Hundred Year Winter. She reached out and took his hand in hers. His sleeping calmed.

A little later, he awoke to find Susan still holding his hand. When he realized it was her, he blushed and tried to let go.

"Your Majesty."

Susan refused to relinquish her grip. "Am I not now a Dryad? Narnia's Kings and Queens must be either Sons of Adam or Daughters of Eve." She smiled.

"Very well then, My Little Willow." He grinned back

"Thank you, for this morning, and yesterday," Susan blushed dark green. "And I'm sorry. I should not have gotten angry at you. You've been a Dryad all your life, why should you think of that which has become second nature?"

"You need not apologize to me Susan. I should not have forgotten, and you suffered embarrassment for it." Feeling himself beginning to blush, he broke eye contact, looking up he spotted the wren. Grateful for the opportunity the bird presented, he changed the subject. "I see you have your first tenant!"

Susan giggled. "We had just finished the nest when I saw you and went running!"

Her laugh faded and her brow furrowed. "Why can't I go beyond my tree?"

"None of us can at first. You have to learn to draw strength from the other life around you. Right now, you only draw strength from your tree. Too far from your tree and poof."

"Poof?"

"I knew a sprout who wandered too far from their tree and stayed away too long. Their body faded and their spirit was never able to leave their tree again. You were very lucky today, another step or two and, well..."

"Thank you." Susan hugged him.

She let go and stood up. "Fisrahd Ashe," She reached out her hand to him. "If you would do me the honor of teaching me everything about being a Dryad, I would be most grateful. And I promise not to hold any grudges if you forget anything by accident."

Fiz clasped the outstretched arm at the wrist and stood before her. "Susan Willow, I would be honored." He then bowed deeply and kissed the back of her hand. "And I promise to give you no reason for which to hold the aforementioned grudges."

Susan felt a shiver in her spine at the kiss. The sensation was interrupted by the sound of barking dogs far in the distance.


	9. Elgyn the Idiot

**A/N:** I bounced back and forth as to whether to make the middle of this chapter a stand alone story or not. I still may do a larger one around it later(or let Straitjackit since she expressed interest), but my ever-wonderful Beta, Straitjackit, convinced me to leave it in as a part of this story. So, on to the show!

**Elgyn the Idiot**

_1_

As was her habit on long sea trips, Lucy dined with the crew, learning each creatures' name and job so that she might better appreciate those she served. In particular, she thanked the cook, an old Satyr named Gidgch.

"The dinner stew was quite filling, Mr. Gidgch. The cooks at the castle don't always appreciate that simple food can be far more satisfying that their elaborate creations."

"Each ha' it's place, Melady."

With dinner over, the evening watch took their stations, allowing the previous helmsman and lookout to come in and grab their dinner.

Lucy, the Faun who headed her personal guard, and the Captain of the _Herald_ began discussing their mission to Terebinthia.

"I intend to begin with King Gess and Queen Elise, hopefully one of them will know who the Guardian of Terebinthia is and where he may be keeping the Box of Elgyn."

Bustling by with extra servings for the two latecomers, Gidgch's ears perked up. "Did ye say Elgyn? Me granna told me sem stories when I was but a ki'id. One as always stuck in me mind was the story she told of King Elgyn, the Unsatisfied."

"Elgyn the Unsatisfied?" Lucy had learned many of the prominent Monarchs from Narnia's history, but this one was not familiar. "Was he Narnian, or from elsewhere?"

"Oh 'e was Narnian a'right, and a blacker sheep," the dark haired satyr twirled his beard and laughed at his own pun, "ne'er resided w'in our borders. Lemme gi' these two their stew an I'll spin ye granna's ya'n."

"I'll be patient, Mr. Gidgch." Lucy's eyes were alight at the prospect of learning a new story about Narnia.

A half hour later, the crew turned down the lanterns, but for a pair by the table. Gidgch settled in under the light as Lucy took a chair against the bulkhead. Many of the crew gathered around as well, a testament to the old Satyr's storytelling. As he began, his accent faded. Lucy was never sure if it was how he'd learned the story, or if her ears just tuned it out. His voice mesmerized the audience.

_2_

More than a hundred years after the reign of Swanwhite, Elgyn, eldest son of Gynot ascended to the throne of Narnia. The people had high hopes for Elgyn as he had been out among the country, always helping with plantings or harvests. Learning what the folk did and showing proper appreciation for their labors.

Elgyn's first few years were much of the same as when he was a mere prince. The people grew to love him and would do anything for him. In the middle of his third year on the throne, things began to change. He paid a state visit to his old friend Bron, then king of Archenland. King Bron had recently wed a beautiful wife, and as a wedding gift, she had presented him with a new throne. This throne was made of the finest woods with gold inlays, exquisite carvings that were so detailed you could almost swear they were alive. The cushion was of the softest and finest materials. Bron invited him to have a seat on the throne and feel its comforts.

For the first time in Elgyn's life, he was in the presence of something he wanted, but he couldn't have. He complemented King Bron and his wife profusely on the fine craftsmanship until they finally relented and gave him the name of the craftsmen who had made it.

Elgyn immediately ordered a throne to be made, quite as nice as King Bron's. The craftsmen promptly complied, and a great throne was made and delivered to Cair Paravel. To most of his subjects, the throne was grand and impressive, quite the match for its Archenlandish inspiration.

But Elgyn found it unsatisfactory.

He called in the craftsmen. After much discussion, it was decided that the wood was of insufficient quality, so Elgyn requested of the Dryads a donation of the finest furniture wood in Narnia. The Dryads selected an appropriate tree from their charge, and with proper obeisance, they felled, prepared and cured the wood for the craftsmen.

The day came when the throne was unveiled. It was quite nicer than the previous throne; made in a similar style, but the nice wood gave it an internal glow. For a while, Elgyn seemed happy with this throne.

But one day, he was looking at the carvings, and he noticed a slight imperfection. In one place on the backrest, near the carving of his favorite dagger, the grain of the wood did not quite match the image. Though no one else could see the flaw, even when he pointed it out to them, he grew increasingly unsatisfied with the throne.

This time, he put out the call for the finest wood to be found in all the lands. From the deeper reaches of Calormen, a great tree was felled and its wood gifted to the King of Narnia. This wood was indeed finer than that the Dryads had chosen, for the environment in that area was harsh and thus the grain of the wood was tightly packed and more attractive.

On the day the craftsmen delivered the throne, a great party was held. This throne far outshone its two predecessors. The amazing grain carefully followed each line of the exquisite carvings. Again Elgyn seemed happy. This third throne was all he had desired. One day, coming in from a royal hunt, Elgyn happened to bring in his favorite hunting horn, the model for the image on the backrest of the Throne.

He looked at the horn, then the carving, then the horn again. The shape wasn't quite right. The craftsman had followed the grain and done an excellent job of carving a horn, but it wasn't the horn he was holding. Elgyn fumed. His order had been specific. He had even given up his favorite horn for over a month, for the purpose of having its image carved.

What was he to do? The finest woods in the world had been used to create the first three thrones.

As autumn approached, he continued to fume. As was tradition, he ventured to the edges of the Lantern Waste to collect the fruit of the Great Tree. The fruit was given to the Narnian healers and the poor as gifts to ensure their good health. A small portion of each harvest was carefully dried and stored against future need. As the royal entourage picked and packed the fruit, Elgyn began to admire the tree. Avarice grabbed him, but even in its grip, he knew he could not simply order the Great Tree cut down.

By darkest and most secret means, he met with Calormen mercenaries. He then announced a great feast to celebrate that year's bountiful harvest. All of Narnia was expected to attend. As Elgyn had befriended most of the inhabitants of Narnia, everyone felt obligated to make an appearance for the feast.

With all of Narnia gathered, the Calormen mercenaries silently approached the great tree. Under the cover of darkness, while the residents of the land feasted under starlit skies and torchlight, the mercenaries cut down the Great Tree.

At the moment it toppled, a most hideous cackle was heard to come out of the snowy northern wastes! An evil chill swept through the party. Clouds blocked out the stars and a great, cold storm rained on the revelers. A Priestess of the Centaur stood and addressed the King. "Elgyn, you fool, what have you wrought?" But a crash of thunder washed out her words, and Elgyn swiftly escorted her to an inner room of the castle, on the pretext of answering her question. He then locked her there.

Word came the next day that the Great Tree had been felled. Great sorrow rose in the land, for the protection of the tree was Narnia's oldest charge. Claiming great honor to the felled protector, Elgyn ordered the tree sectioned and made into a new throne for the castle, "So that all may remember its years of great service." While the throne was being constructed, Elgyn had some of the lesser wood made into a box in which he packed the dried fruit and seeds from the last harvest of the tree. He made a great show of doing this so that all of Narnia could see his sorrow at the tree's loss.

The weather continued to grow colder and rumors were heard of bandits beginning to raid along the northern borders. Elgyn ordered out the army to defend against the bandits. Narnia's peaceful happiness had come to an end. The people begged Elgyn to do something to restore Narnia's fortunes.

Elgyn remembered the Centaur Seeress he had imprisoned and sought her out. "Tell me how to undo this darkness and I shall release you."

"You can't release what you have never held, you fool. I have stayed for this very moment, and no other reason. There is only one way to undo the darkness, and the time for that revelation has not yet come! Much must befall Narnia before that is revealed, and much more must occur before it is fulfilled."

"But know this," she continued. "You will never sit upon the throne you have ordered. It is now reserved for one King and one King only. If you wish to amend for the disaster you have brought. Take the box of dried fruit and cross the Binthian Plain. Climb Mount Tere, there you will watch over those whose land you crossed and await your summoning to amends."

With that, the centaur disappeared.

Frightened of what he had done, Elgyn made plans to depart in the hope that he could swiftly make amends and return.

Several months later, a single member of Elgyn's party returned. He reported that all, save himself, had been devoured by a dragon. Elgyn the Unsatisfied was gone. His brother Emgyn ascended to become King and defended Narnia against the White Witch's first attempts to overrun the land.

When the throne was finished, Emgyn admired it greatly; the lifelike carvings of a sword and a lion on its back giving it a truly regal air. He then had all four of Elgyn's thrones stored away. He, and all the remaining rulers at Cair Paravel sat upon the old throne that had been handed down since Frank the first. It was this throne that years later, Jadis smashed upon her conquest of Narnia.

Though she never found it, the presence of the Great Throne, constructed of wood from the Great Tree and hidden in storage in the castle made the White Witch uneasy. She never occupied Cair Paravel, choosing instead to build a new castle in the high, cold mountains.

During that time, Elgyn the Unsatisfied became known by many other names, most prominently Elgyn the Idiot, before his name was otherwise dropped from history.

_3_

Gidgch's storytelling had been mesmerizing. Not one person had moved from their spot on the deck, nor had anyone dozed off. So enraptured were they that no one had even noticed that one of the two lamps had gone out.

Lucy sat pondering the story. Something about it called to her. While the crew had gone off to bed, she help Gidgch prepare the morning bread and questioned him on every possible detail of Elgyn's mission.


	10. Dogs, Dryads & Dragons Oh My!

**A/N:** My chapter production rate is falling off here. Oh well, Quality over quantity:-) Thanks again to all my readers, reviewers, and that really scary person on the other side of the pond who thinks enough like me to ask just the right questions... Thanks Straitjackit! -hmm

**Dogs, Dryads, and Dragons (oh my)**

_1_

On the third day after the Queen disappeared, Orieus caught up with the searchers and the hounds. He arrived to find the search had dissolved into pandemonium. At the edge of a thicket of wiry underbrush, Mudnose's trackers were milling about randomly. Orieus' own forces weren't that much more organized, being spread out over an extensive area of the surrounding forest. Whatever had disrupted the trail had also disrupted the discipline of the searchers.

"Silence!" the centaur General bellowed into the mayhem.

Into the intervening quiet he snapped out orders. "Form Ranks! Unit leaders, make camp and prepare your reports."

Mudnose bounded up to him. "Heneral, 'he paff ends here. We can smell i' con'inues, buh we cann' go any fur'her. We 'ry an find ourselves pushed aside."

"You've done well so far Mudnose. Get your trackers fed and watered. Once camp is established, I will want them to help define the perimeter of this disturbance."

Orieus walked in the direction of where he had seen the trackers milling about. The woods around him appeared to thicken. As he walked, he felt pressure building in front of him, each step became harder to make. The further he advanced, the thicker the trees ahead appeared. As he went to try and force another step, he felt a rush of wind, and found himself standing thirty feet from where he'd started.

"Strong magic indeed," he muttered.

He quickly scribbled out a message on a piece of parchment. Turning, he called to a young centaur. "Take this message to Cair Paravel. If one of the Kings, or Queen Lucy is there, give it to them, otherwise give it to Counsellor Tumnus. On my order, have the garrison commander mobilize the militia and lead them back here."

The young centaur nodded, placed the message in his carry-sack and galloped off in the direction of Cair Paravel.

_2_

Hot fury coursed through Susan's veins.

"That self-centered, pompous, inconsiderate, splinters for brains... Ooooo!" Susan ran out of invectives for the old Oak who'd just refused to allow any contact with her friends outside the barrier.

"I HOPE YOU GET TERMITES!" she yelled at the retreating Dryad's back.

"Well, I'd say his personality is so acidic that if he does, the woodpeckers won't even help him out!" Fiz answered before collapsing in a heap of laughter. "Termites!"

"This isn't a laughing matter. Those barks belonged to Mudnose and his trackers." She turned and planted her fists on her hips, looking down at Fiz. "They're searching for me. I have to at least let them know I'm okay!" She shot another furious look over her shoulder toward the Oak tree.

"The only way we're going to manage that is for you to become a full Dryad."

He looked up at her. "Go ahead and vent it out of your system. The anger will just make it harder to accomplish your next goal."

Susan reached up to the limb over her head, closed her eyes and screamed in frustration. When she opened her eyes, her gown had gone from green to scarlet and the edges were flickering through orange and yellow. For a moment, she thought she'd caught fire. No sooner did the thought cross her mind, than the dress returned to its original shade. She let go of the limb.

"I didn't know I could do that."

Fiz stood up. "I have to admit, it was a different look for you. Do you feel better?"

"A little."

"You know, you do dress a bit frumpy."

"Frumpy? I'll have you know that this..." She reached up and grabbed the limb again. This time the dress changed into a beautiful, formal gown in emerald velvet. "...is the height of fashion in Cair Paravel this year!"

She let go of the tree and pirouetted before him. "What do you think I should be wearing?"

Fiz blushed a bit. "Are you sure you want to be discussing this now?"

Susan stopped spinning. "Why not now? It's not like you haven't seen everything already!" She blushed, realizing what she'd just said.

"I...i...i...if y-you're sure," Fiz stammered. The gold in his cheeks grew brighter as he began. "M-most of the dryads, men and women, wear very light c-clothing. To more easily move among the limbs and branches without getting caught."

He stepped between her and the tree. Reaching out one hand, he asked. "M-may I show you?"

Finding his nervousness somehow both comforting and exciting, Susan nodded yes.

Fiz grabbed her hand in his then placed his other against her tree. "Here, more like this."

The flowing emerald gown that clung to her bodice and floated gracefully out from her waist began to alter. First it faded to a soft, pastel green. The cloth changed from the luxurious velvet to a soft translucent linen. Then it began to shrink. The sleeves retreated up her arms. She felt a pop and realized that the back of the gown had disappeared entirely, and then the hem began to rise.

At Fiz's request, the Naiad in the brook raised a vertical wall of water. Susan could see her shimmering reflection, the way the color of the dress complimented her skin. She looked closer at the dress. It started behind her neck and draped over her shoulders, below her chest, the two ends crossed, swinging around her waist, crossing in the back and connecting in the front to form a skirt. She spun before the mirror and noticed how the very very short skirt tried to lift. Her human side thought the whole thing quite naughty.

She looked at Fiz, raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. Reaching up, she grabbed a branch of the tree, with a subtle smile, she lengthened the dress to below her knees, filled in the top a little, and made it opaque.

Fiz grinned, sensing her playfulness. He cocked his head to one side, squinted, and the dress regained it's translucence. A second layer made it more modest than before, but he had restored the original length of the skirt.

Susan closed her eyes and the skirt dropped back to just above knee length.

Fiz shook his head and the skirt crept back up to mid thigh.

Susan looked at her reflection and released the branch. Laughing, she punched Fiz's arm and scampered away before he could grab her again.

The mirror collapsed with a splash, Susan glanced over as the Naiad rolled her eyes at their antics. Susan quickly spun out of Fiz's grasp. Fiz overextended and fell in a heap. The Naiad winced, then sank back below the surface of the stream.

Like a pair of squirrels, the two ran circles around her tree for a while, before collapsing by the brook.

"Are you sure you want me to teach you to walk further in the wood?" Fiz asked.

"Of course!" She rolled on her side and looked at him. "Why?"

Fiz sighed. "You're much easier to catch when you can't leave the vicinity of your tree."

They both laughed.

Fiz reached over to tickle her side.

Susan jumped, started to roll away, then changed her mind and tried to tickle him back. She noted the relieved look on Fiz's face before his huge grin returned. As they tickled back and forth, rolling on the grass. She realized that Fiz was guiding them in a specific direction.

Finally, he grabbed her hands. With their faces only inches apart, he whispered, "Keep watch, and don't stop giggling."

Susan glanced over his shoulder toward the old Oak. Her eyes shot back to his as he tickled her side, "Giggle."

As she giggled, Fiz tilted his head slightly toward the brook.

"Arisumae."

The water bubbled and the Naiad's face appeared just under the surface.

"Find the hound called Mudnose and tell him Queen Susan is safe here with us. We will try to convince the other Dryads to let the searchers in, but it may take time."

The Naiad nodded and disappeared.

Susan threw her arms around Fiz, rolled on top, pinned him to the ground, and hugged him hard.

When she released him, Susan was looking down into his eyes from only an inch away.

_3_

At mid-morning on the third day of the voyage, the _Transcendent Herald _drew within sight of land. Over the next several hours, Terebinthia's great central peak grew taller and taller.

Shortly after lunch, the lookout atop the mainmast cried a warning. Looking out over the starboard bow, Lucy could see a black dot, high in the sky.

"What is it, an eagle?" She asked the captain.

He placed his spyglass to his eye and his complexion blanched. Handing the telescope to Lucy, he immediately turned and began shouting orders. The crew scrambled to adjust the sails and trim the boat for the maximum possible speed. The helmsman let the bow fall off from their course to get more wind into the sails. The extra sails, that had taken down in preparation for arrival, were hastily re-hoisted. The _Herald_ leaned over to her port side and white foam began surging along the lee rail.

Lucy stood transfixed by the rail as the object grew larger. She'd taken one glimpse of it through the glass and wished to be no closer. Soon it flew near enough to recognize with the bare eye; sunlight glinted off the coppery scales of an immense dragon, easily the length of the ship.

Lucy watched it turn, gather itself into a stoop and, trailing a thin stream of smoke, begin a dive against the ship. The crew was in a mad scramble to get below decks. Lucy took a look at the mayhem by the hatchway, with a choice between hiding below deck or facing her demise with her eyes open, she chose not to move from the rail. With the dragon now but a few lengths away, the breeze freshened. The _Transcendent Herald's _bow came up and the ship surged ahead. The great Narnian Banner, flying above the crow's nest, snapped taught with a great roar.

The sun glaring off the Golden Lion on the flag and the roaring noise gave the dragon pause. It altered its descent to pass aft of the ship, swooped back to altitude and flew away in the direction of the peak. The crew returned to the deck to continue their preparations for arriving in Terebinthia, but every one of them kept an eye on the mountain top so long as it remained in sight during the voyage.


	11. Help

**A/N: **I want to thank all of you. After twenty years of writer's block, I have discovered that having readers who care about the story and are willing to tell me so, is the best motivation for plowing through the obstacles and getting the next chapter done! You will notice that this chapter is a bit longer than most others... Straitjackit swung the 'brickbat' labeled descriptive a bit harder than usual!

**Help**

_1_

As he sat in the hastily volunteered and vacated clothier's shop, Tumnus couldn't believe what was happening. Of the twenty people who had sought him out with the poisoned perfume, only one had accepted any money for it, and she was a child who had spent her savings on a gift for her mother.

"But sir?" The young female satyr's large glistening eyes reflected the light from the windows. "Is this not for Queen Susan?"

Tumnus had walked around the table where he'd been documenting every bottle brought in. He crouched down and looked in the ki'id's eyes. "My child, is it fair that you be wronged for the welfare of another? That would compound the injury already offered." Tears welled in his eyes at the love the people of Narnia showed for their rulers.

Even then, Tumnus had to insist to the girl's father that she accept the payment.

He finished recording the details of the interview with the girl and her father as the sun began to peek below the upper sill of the western window. Feeling it was a rather successful day, he gathered up the bottles and prepared to head back to the castle. He was sealing the door for the evening when a faun kid trotted around the corner.

"Allo, you Tuminus? The small faun, not yet old enough to have horns, was dressed in a ragged shirt that was covered in a multicolored patchwork of pockets. He had the look of one of the local urchin who, while their parents were distracted by customers, ran rampant during market hours. Tumnus noted a slight smell of shellfish and old garbage.

"I am Tumnus," he corrected gently.

With the unfettered confidence of a best friend offering a favor, or a con-man with a sure thing up his sleeve, the youngling rattled off his pitch. "Aye unnerstan yer lookin fer perf-yooms tha may ha' been sol' inna market las week."

Tumnus took a moment to understand the sharp coastal patois that had laced what the kid had been saying.

"Indeed." He replied, "Did you by chance purchase some?"

"Nae, bu' I know wher-a fer bit is." The kid's rapid fire words were very different from his own, great-woods accent, but Tumnus' ear was improving.

"How much is a fair bit?"

The younger faun rocked back on his hooves, crossed his arms and gave Tumnus an appraising look. "Mor-n you-nigh k'carry."

"Where might that much perfume be hidden?" Tumnus was suspicious and curious.

The scamp flashed him a look of distrust, then looked around, pausing a moment before answering he. "Middns, nor-eas' o' town." He said quietly.

"Understandable," a new voice interjected. "One of the main roads away from Cair Paravel leads right past the middens. It would make perfect sense for someone who felt they had accomplished their goal to ditch any excess and potentially incriminating material there as they were departing."

The faun kid's jaw fell open, unnoticed by the youth, a small fly buzzed in, made an abrupt u-turn and buzzed right back out again. Quivering nervously, he dropped into a deep bow.

"Your Majesty." Tumnus acknowledged King Edmund.

Edmund gripped Tumnus' shoulder in greeting, then turned to put the clearly nervous kid at ease.

The King dropped to a knee before his young subject. "Young Faun, may I have your name?"

"Tanann, sire." He flashed a lopsided grin.

Edmund smiled as the youth's irrepressible self-confidence reasserted itself. "And how many know of this trove you have discovered, young Tanann?"

"Jes-a fif n me gang. E' oths wanna sell em ta ye a few ahuh time, bu I 'vincd em for eh good 'f Queen Susan ta tun'em all en a'once." Clearly still nervous at the King's presence, Tanann's words blurred together as if they were all trying to come out at once.

Tumnus' eyes crossed from trying to sort out Tanann's rapid-fire patter.

Edmund smiled and nodded at the youth. "Counselor Tumnus, what say we fetch a cart from the stables and follow this lad to the middens?"

Edmund turned to the kid. "If the bottles prove out to be the potion that has so grievously affected my sister, you and your friends will be well rewarded."

As the kid danced out in front of them, Tumnus whispered, "Did you make any sense out of that last sentence?"

Edmund chuckled. "A little trick I learned dealing with Welsh students at my boarding school. Smile, nod, and go with the words you do understand."

Tumnus desperately wanted ask what manner of creature a Welsh was, but at that moment, Tanann danced back through the crowd and rattled off another quick sentence that washed the thought out of his head as he tried to puzzle it out.

The three of them collected a cart and pony from the stables and walked out to the Middens, downwind from town. Tanann chattered happily on ahead of them, leading to where his friends were guarding the bottles.

Leaving the smooth and firmly packed road, Tanann led them on a rough and winding path around to the far edge of the midden heap. They rounded a mound of refuse that looked as if someone had knocked over a house. Tumnus spotted Tanann's friends as the faun ran ahead to greet them. "Tol'ya I'd bringum. Even brou' King Edmund!"

Tumnus took stock of Tanann's group. There was another, even younger faun, two satyr ki'ids, one male and the other female, a female dryad who was barely more than a sapling, and a centaur colt. All but the colt were sitting on and around some familiar looking crates. The colt had spread an old sheet out on the ground. She was throwing chicken bones on the sheet, looking at them intensely, then gathering them up and repeating the process.

The youngsters looked on as Tumnus carefully opened the crates and examined the padded boxes containing the perfume bottles.

"We're going to need Tiaana's opinion of the contents in order to be certain, your Majesty, but these look very much like the bottles and crates that I saw at the stall that day."

"Tanann, I'd say you and your friends have earned their reward," Edmund smiled at Tanann and his friends. "Come back to the castle with us and I'll see to it you are paid for each of these bottles."

The younglings shifted about uncomfortably, the others were staring hard at Tanann. The colt stepped forward and opened her mouth.

"No Whinna, It's my place." Tanann interrupted her.

Whinna closed her eyes and nodded.

"Sire." Tanann was making an effort to speak slower and clearer. "If'n we'd wann'd gold fer these, we'da brough' em to the castl' eh few at eh time." He looked at the mixed group of kids around him, they were nodding in support.

Carefully, he enunciated. "Sire, we want to be soldiers!"

_2_

Peter led his troop along the road between the scattered Marsh-wiggle wigwams. The party took great care to stay on the prepared surface of the road. Even so, the horse and centaur hooves made great squelching noises as they continued their march. Every so often a centaur would pause and shake great clumps of mud from each of their four hooves. The more frequent encounters they were having with the conical tents that Marsh-wiggles preferred as housing indicated that they were getting nearer to Soak, the largest town in the marshes.

"Oh, you really don't want to go there. The food is miserable, the hospitality is lousy, and they over-charge you for everything," Peter heard for the third time that morning, upon attempting to exchange pleasantries with one of the area inhabitants.

The High King was momentarily distracted from the scarecrow-like speaker by a tittering followed by a muffled 'gloop' and splash. He glanced at the narrow channel behind the wigwam where a swarm of tiny bumps dotted the surface. One of the tiny bumps raised up to show the distinctly froglike face of a young Marsh-wiggle. Peter watched as the wiggleling's eyes slowly began to protrude from it's head. He was reminded of the look on Edmund's face the time they'd tried to figure out who could hold their breath underwater for the longest. Finally the youngling opened it's mouth and sank below the surface.

"Ah, I see you admiring my youngest. Don't have too high hopes for him. Takes after the wife's father's side of the family. The Glums were always the layabouts in these parts. Reckon he'll have to make do though." The wiggle pulled off its tall conical straw hat and mopped its forehead. "Ah, Soak, did I mention that the beds there are damp? Of course mine aren't much better, what with the constant rains we've been having."

Peter glanced up at the cloudless sky.

The dour creature also looked up, with a long-suffering sigh he added, "Like as not, this will become a drought, our crops will wither and we'll all starve."

The King and his company continued down the muddy road. As they neared Soak, residents began coming out of their wigwams and following the party towards town.

As they came within the boundaries of town, there was now a fair group trailing along behind his troops. Whenever he looked back, the assembled Marsh-wiggles would be looking off in various directions, their sour faces reflecting unending visages of worry. For a group that was pointedly not paying attention to his party, they were keeping pace rather well. He noted that each carried a pack and either a bow or a blade.

Peter noted the extra long strides as a Marsh-wiggle squelched out of his wigwam and joined the crowd.

"May as well follow as be drafted," the drab creature muttered.

Peter shook his head on hearing that ripple through the crowd behind him. These folk were turning out more dour and fatalistic than his advisors had even begun to describe.

The interwoven channels of the great tidal marshes joined to form a wide channel marking the outermost edge of the town. Within that perimeter, Soak was a mix of half-melted mud buildings and wigwams surrounding a pleasantly dry hill with a couple of trees growing on it. Peter followed the road across an ancient wooden bridge that shocked him by continuing to support its own weight as they approached it. He followed the street as it wound through the mud structures and then rode into the park that contained the hill.

"That's it, he's going to claim the only dry land in these parts for himself," a voice moaned.

"Well, he is the King," came a drab and watery answer. "I suppose I should go fetch my younglings. He'll be wanting servants for his castle."

The Marsh-wiggles of Soak and the surrounding country wandered casually into the park behind him. It would have looked like a grand picnic if it weren't for the dour and worried expressions on every face Peter saw.

The Marsh-wiggles began milling about in a random fashion while Peter ascended a little way up the hill to a small leveled patch.

"Marsh-wiggles!" The faces of the locals all turned toward him, but none of them stopped moving. "I am Peter, High King."

"That's it, we're going to war," a mournful voice sounded from the crowd.

"And me with mouths at home wanting feeding," came an answer to the first.

"Like as not to die on some distant battlefield," a third Marsh-wiggle threw in.

Peter tried to tune out the undercurrent of doom and gloom his advisors had warned him about. "I come seeking your assistance." He looked out over the crowd. The constant swirling and shifting motion of the Marsh-wiggles began to make him queasy and he had to focus on the structures outside the park that weren't moving.

"Speaks pleasantly for someone about to take us to our demise. Though he does appear a bit distracted," the mournful voice rose again from near the front of the crowd.

"He doesn't look well at all. Especially not in that shade of green," a new voice said.

"Just our luck, the King has taken ill. Most likely he'll die here and we'll be blamed," the mournful voice replied.

Peter shook off the queasiness and the distraction of the Marsh-wiggle's commentary.

"My sister, Queen Susan, has been changed into a tree by the Hagarathan." Raising his voice slightly, Peter forced himself to continue over the murmurs. "Somewhere along the coast, just north of the Shribble, in giant country, they made up their potion." He forced himself to pause, fighting down the urge to rush though the description before the commentary could begin again. "One of the ingredients in that potion was a hair taken from a stolen hairbrush. That brush is somewhere along that coastline and I must find it if I am to get my sister back."

Peter looked out over the crowd. The random movements had changed. Instead of single Marsh-wiggles pottering about, they were now moving about in groups of fifteen. In a few places the groups of fifteen had come together in larger sets of forty-five. These larger groupings were dressing ranks, unfurling banners, and behaving in a very martial fashion. Without quite realizing what he was doing, Peter had mobilized the entire Marsh-wiggle Militia.

Peter looked out at the army before him, with their gloomy expressions, dour outlook and odd loyalty. With a snort, the dark mood that had gripped him since leaving Cair Paravel was ripped asunder and he started laughing.

"Barmy, he is," the mournful voice offered.

"Worry for his sister has driven him mad," the dour voice answered.

"Best if we find that brush and send him on his way, before he starts doing anything crazy."

_3_

A dark and unnatural fog drifted through the high glade where Meertz had set up her latest camp. Eerie light reflected down from where the tall pine trees stretched above the mist. The smaller trees trembled as she and her minions walked past. A great bonfire burned at the center of the clearing, the green wood popping and crackling. The whistling scream of boiling sap was the last voice of a once living elm.

Meertz settled herself on the thronelike chair that had been set up for her at the edge of the clearing. With not the slightest hint of happiness, she smiled, displaying multiple rows of razor-sharp, pointed teeth to the hag trembling before her.

"Since you seem incapable of performing the tasks I have assigned you, let me give you something more suited to your abilities." Meertz handed the hag a large sealed envelope. "Take this note to the giants north of the Shribble. Wait there to bring me back their reply."

Bowing deeply, the hag swiftly left Meertz's presence. She was gone from the camp shortly thereafter.

Meertz picked up a plate from a table beside her chair. Selecting a roasted leg of fowl, she nibbled at it in an almost dainty fashion. She looked over at her bull headed companion tearing into a haunch of venison. "You wish to comment on something, General Kine?"

The Minotaur licked the grease from around his mouth. "I'm impressed at your patience, Milady. Were you not going to execute her for failing you again?"

Meertz smiled a horrible and gleeful smile. "Giants aren't too picky about what they eat. So long as they keep the High King busy, they can do with the messenger what they will."

The Minotaur chuckled. "Quite effective milady. I shall make note of it for future use." He turned back to his dinner.

"I seem to recall that you had some suggestions on locating our dear Queen's tree." Meertz turned her gaze on the Minotaur.

"Indeed." Kine replied. "Perhaps, if some of my people took on the job of gathering the Queen's branches?"


	12. Turning Point

**A/N: **I think Einstein once said that the first 90 percent of anything takes only 10 percent of the energy, but that last 10 percent takes what you thought you'd saved. You've seen what's come before, and I have a very clear picture of how this ends, but crafting the intervening chapters to the level of quality both you and I expect is taking more time. Thanks again 'Jackit, without your input this would be a much poorer piece. (I dislike how the site automatically edits out percent signs and any characters repeated more than twice... Try posting a number like two thousand... Even in a review or PM)

**Turning Point**

_1_

A half hour before sunrise, Susan awoke to the sound of the little wren singing. He was perched high on her trunk and warbling right at ear level. With a soft rustling, Susan gathered herself and slipped out of her tree. She raised her hand to stroke the tiny bird and thanked him for wakening her. The wren chirped, bobbed and flitted back up to it's nest where it resumed its song.

She walked to the limits of where her tree supported her. Taking a step beyond, she felt the slight weakness as the energy provided by her tree began to wane. Carefully following the instructions Fiz drilled into her the previous afternoon, she reached out and felt the life of the grasses, flowers and other trees around her. Tentatively, she gathered a small part of their strength to sustain her, taking great care to not pull too much energy from any one source. Feeling her stamina increase she took another step, slowly repeating the process until increasing the distance from her tree no longer weakened her.

Susan beamed when she realized that she now had the skill to go where she wished. Her happiness was muted by two thoughts; the need to convince that infuriating Oak to allow her through the protections he had woven around the glade, and the knowledge that she would need much more practice before she could leave her tree for any extended period of time.

'With enough experience, I could return to Cair Paravel. But my tree... It will be lonely without me here.'

She heard a whisper of wind rustling through the willow's branches, almost as if it were trying to speak. She distinctly felt the tree encouraging her to go on and explore.

Her smile changing to a mischievous grin, she turned and set off towards Fiz's tree. As she got closer to the ash, she began to duck behind other trees and bushes, keeping them between her and Fiz's trunk. Sunlight was just grazing the very top of the tallest pines as she passed the last bit of cover. Susan took a step, then froze as she heard light laughter behind her. Her jaw hanging open, she spun and stared as Fiz stepped out of the small dogwood she'd just passed.

"If you're going to sneak up on someone, don't ask a wren to wake you. They just can't keep secrets," Fiz chuckled.

Susan planted her hands on her hips, miffed that he'd surprised her instead of the other way round. "How long were you watching?"

With an infuriating smirk, Fiz gestured towards Susan's tree where the little wren was still warbling. "Since he started singing."

Susan's eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. "Did you..."

"No, My Little Willow. I know how important it is for you to be able to do this on your own. But if you had needed me, I would have been right there." He paused and a look of great concern came over him. "Leaving one's tree is one of the most dangerous things we Dryads do."

Susan nodded, then punched his arm, hard.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For acting like my brother Peter! I don't_ need_ another brother," she replied.

"What do you _need_ then?" Fiz asked.

Susan's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. "To know why you ducked away from me yesterday," she said, her sharp gaze piercing deep into his green eyes.

In the cool dim light reflecting down from the treetops, Fiz's skin noticeably darkened. As he struggled to voice an answer to her question, he closed his eyes, then turned and stared at the ground off to her right. A dejected tremble laced his voice as he finally responded. "I...I...I'm not good enough for you. You're a Queen, I'm just the Dryad of an ash tree."

Susan tightened her grip on his wrist. Once again, her status as a Queen of Narnia was threatening to interfere with her life. She closed her own eyes and took a deep breath. Willing her hand to relax its grip on Fiz's wrist, she reopened her eyes before answering. "Right now, I am _just_ the Dryad of a willow tree." The muscles along her jaw tightened as her expression hardened. "Besides, don't you think it should be up to me to decide who is and isn't good enough for me?"

His eyes came back up to meet hers. "Well..." he began.

Susan continued before he could finish the thought. "I've been a Queen here for five years. I have seen Princes and pretenders, and do you want to know something?" She raised her free hand to caress his cheek, feeling the smooth texture of his skin and the silky sensation of his hair. She continued with a quiet intensity. "For all their royal manners and genteel speech, battle scars and boastings, not a single one of them would make half the man you've already shown yourself to be!"

"Fisrahd..." She paused to take a breath. For the first time she recognized the real vulnerability that being a Queen of Narnia opened her to. "Rahd, you care. Those others, they see me as a prize to be won, or a means to power over the Narnian throne. But you seek none of that, and still you stay by me, and that makes you worth ten..." She slid her hand along his face, resting it behind his neck and then pulled him closer. "...No, a hundred of those silly courtiers."

"But your friends, your family. When they succeed in changing you back... Between us, it won't work." He shook his head attempting to back away, but the hand on his neck and the grip on his wrist had him pinned.

"How can you be certain?" she asked, moving their faces closer together. "And if it doesn't, can it not still have been worth it?"

His eyes closed and he stopped pulling against her movements. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed forward. "I'm afraid," he whispered.

Susan leaned back a bit. "Of what?"

His head came up and he locked his green eyes onto hers. "What else? Messing up!" He blushed again. "The first day, by your tree, with the clothing. I never want you mad at me like that again. If I give in, and screw up..."

"Rahd... shh," Susan whispered. "Mad as I was, I forgave you, did I not?"

He nodded.

She released his wrist and placed her hand over his heart. "What is important is right here. You feel it, I can see it in your eyes."

Fisrahd blinked and looked away again. Susan kept her arm around him and her other hand against his chest. She could feel his tension. Her mind went back to that first afternoon, when he had wrapped himself around her within the tree. Those hours were the most peaceful and comfortable she had spent in her life. She wanted him to share that closeness with her again, and she needed to give it back to him in return.

A moment before it happened, she felt something change. The tension melted and his eyes rose to meet hers.

"Rahd?" she whispered. Hoping, praying she'd interpreted right.

"My Little Willow," he smiled, wrapping his own arms around her waist and shoulders.

As the first rays of sun reached the ground around where they stood, their lips slowly came together.

_2_

Lucy's party spent three days in the Royal Capital on the edge of the Great Binthian Plain. The Terebinthian nobility had welcomed her with a series of receptions followed by a great feast. Rarely had she felt so frustrated by the many and varied formalities of the dealings between nations but on this occasion, help for her sister required Lucy's utmost diplomacy.

Usually such duties fell to Peter or Susan while she could wander off with a prince, princess or other noble nearer her age to explore the city. On this occasion she found herself moving from one formal reception to another, each hosted by a Terebinthian noble of incrementally greater importance than the last. Each host or hostess graciously promised to inform the King of the urgency of her mission just as soon as she left for the next reception.

Finally, she was ushered into a private reception room to meet with King Gess and Queen Elise. Apologizing first for her abbreviated greeting, she gave them quick summary of the situation that had befallen Susan and of her search for the Box of Elgyn. The Terebinthian monarchs expressed extreme dismay upon learning the purpose of her voyage. However, neither of them had ever heard of a 'Guardian' of Terebinthia.

A servant came in and announced dinner and the three retired to the castle's great hall for the welcoming feast. Standing at the head of the table, King Gess gave thanks for the dinner.

"Nobles of Terebinthia, and honored guests." He nodded at Lucy. "It has long been our custom that times of eating be times of joy and thus talk of business is banished. Tonight, I lift that ban in the hope that our combined knowledge will assist Queen Lucy of Narnia in her quest. She seeks a lost artifact of Narnia with which to enable the restoration of her sister, Queen Susan." He nodded for her to rise.

Lucy stood. "Friends of Narnia, a dark spell has been cast over my sister. By means of a potion meant to be used in a plot aimed against myself, she has been changed into a dryad. If my siblings and I are to change her back, I must find the Box of Elgyn, which is said to be in the possession of the Guardian of Terebinthia. The box is made of fine apple wood and contains the last dried fruit and seeds of the Great Tree of Protection. If we are not successful by the next full moon, Queen Susan will remain as a tree spirit, forever. People of Terebinthia, I beg your assistance to locate that which I need to save my sister." Lucy resumed her seat as the buzz of myriad conversations swept the room.

Between bites of roast fowl and steamed vegetables, she answered what questions she could and at one point recounted Gidgch's story of Elgyn the Unsatisfied.

"Your Majesty?" a noble addressed the King. "Is not one of your official titles 'Protector' of Terebinthia?"

"Indeed, good sir. And though I know of no such box among the royal treasury, a thorough search shall be performed," King Gess replied.

One of the nobles with whom she had shared 'Elgyn the Unsatisfied' then spoke up. "We should all search our records for any reference to Elgyn's party. There may be clues there."

"There was reference to the Dragon in that story. Many a story we have speaks of quests to retrieve treasure from the beast, we should seek out all objects that are believed to have been recovered from there as well."

"My wine merchant told me once that the people of Vin have a legend of a 'Guardian' defeating the White Witch's attempted invasion. Perhaps that is the guardian you seek?" a fourth noble added.

With time short, the Terebinthian Nobles agreed to comb their records and treasuries in the search for any reference to Elgyn or to the Guardian. King Gess gave Lucy an official warrant guaranteeing her the full assistance of any Terebinthian, and she had set sail to follow-up the 'Guardian' story from the wine port of Vin.

_3_

'So much evil in such a small space.'

Tiaana looked at the stack of crates in the corner of her apothecary shop. She really didn't want to know where Edmund had come up with the rag-a-muffin band that helped haul in the crates. The sapling, though, did look like the daughter of an Elm she knew from the outskirts of town. In spite of their street urchin appearance, they moved smartly, and handled the boxes with appropriate care.

Her testing had confirmed the presence of the potion in those few of the perfume bottles she'd had a chance to check. She'd quit testing after identifying sufficient potion with which to prepare the tracking potion Edmund requested. Where he had learned of such things, Aslan only knew, but his order was specific, and he was her King. He had left to see to the rewarding of the younglings who had found the perfume. Once finished with the task he had given her, she would complete the testing of the entire stack.

Carefully, she dabbed a cloth against the sweat beading on her forehead. The small cauldron bubbling on the bench in front of her gave off a pungent smell like that of stewed cabbage. Tiaana turned to an apparatus made of jars and tubes on an iron and wickerwork stand. Earlier, she'd poured the contents of several of the poisoned perfume jars into a funnel at the top of the device. With great trepidation, she removed the smallest vial from the last tube and measured it's contents.

In the clear vial was an ice blue droplet; the tiniest of amounts of the White Witch's blood. Tiaana trembled at the thought of the dark magic she was messing with. Whispering a prayer that Aslan guide and steady her hand, she checked the measurement a second time and then poured the blood into the boiling potion.

Consulting her potion book, she carefully checked the color and consistency of the cauldron's contents. It was now turning a deep blue and flowed freely as she stirred the cauldron. If anything was added out of sequence or if there were the slightest imbalance of proportion among the ingredients, the effects of the potion would be disastrous. As it stood, the very nature of what the potion would be tracking meant that there was already a very real danger associated with what she was preparing.

Using heavy pads, she lifted the cauldron from the flames and set it on a rack to cool. While waiting for it, she tidied up her workspace. With great care, she returned the jars of chopped roots and powdered barks to their shelves. She gathered the bottles containing the various oils and extracts the potion demanded and stored them away as well. Finally, she turned to the apparatus on the other bench. One jar was just river water. That she dumped down a drain in the corner. The other remaining jar she handled with great reverence. She carefully sealed the jar and placed it on a shelf among her most precious ingredients.

Tiaana stepped back and bowed her head. "Dear sister, may my humble efforts find you peace."

"She is honored, Tiaana."

The apothecary spun to see who would dare interrupt her while she was working. She was surprised to find the Centaur High Priestess in the doorway. Her reprimand at being disturbed died in her throat.

The elderly centaur continued. "But what if I told you there might be a way to restore her?"

"Jaevyan." Tiaana bowed. "Is it possible? I've just stretched my meager skills to their limit preparing..."

"Edmund's tracking potion. I know, dear. There is much danger down that path for him. The view is cloudy, but I fear that our options have become few. He will go forewarned and perhaps he shall encounter help along the way." The seeress moved over to the cooling cauldron, peering at the thickening dark blue contents. "If it soothes your conscience, the potion is well made and will perform it's intended function."

The apothecary smiled briefly at the confirmation of her skills. "You mentioned restoring the Dryad?"

"There are two variations of the potion which will restore the Queen's humanity. The first restores her completely, but it does so by killing the tree. The other is more complex, and it requires Susan to be a willing participant, but it is possible to restore both her and the dryad."

"And you need me to prepare one or both of these potions?"

Jaevyan smiled. "I'm the seer my dear, but yes, I would like you to assist me in preparing the potion when the time comes."

"I am honored at the opportunity to learn from you, High Priestess."

Jaevyan bowed.

"And I am honored to have you as an assistant. I sense that you'll have some free time in two days. I shall return then to work out the details of our project."

The Centaur turned and left Tiaana's lab.

The Cherry Tree Dryad leaned back against her work counter staring at the doorway Jaevyan had disappeared through. 'She came to me?' Tiaana asked herself.

Humbled at the honor and opportunity that had been offered, she turned to complete King Edmund's project.

Tiaana set a small jar in a metal stand on the counter then rested a funnel on the stand with the neck in the bottle. Carefully, she poured the indigo contents of the cauldron into the jar. The person who drank this potion would be able to follow the vial of Jadis' blood anywhere Meertz carried it.

She only hoped that King Edmund's will was strong enough to resist returning to the enchantments of the White Witch's blood when he consumed the potion.

_4_

Trees and limbs whipped past as Orieus followed the two hounds at speed. The Centaur grinned; it had been some time since he had merely run, and it felt good. He slowed to a canter, then a walk as they neared the stream well to the south of where it emerged from the displacement field. A third hound stood by the stream with his tail wagging.

He heard a female voice rise from the water.

"I distinctly said my message was for the hound Mudnose! Who is this lumbering beast you bring with you?"

"My apologies, my dear Naiad," he answered. "I am Orieus, General of the Narnian armies and devoted servant of Queen Susan and her siblings. If you wish me to depart, I shall do so, but I could not restrain myself. I would prefer to hear any news regarding the Queen firsthand."

The naiad's shimmering form rose from the water and stood in the shallows of the brook. Her glistening gown, the color of the reflected sky, stood out against her dark skin, the shade of the stones lining the stream bed. She looked into Orieus' eyes and nodded.

"Very well, you may stay. I am Arisumae." She turned to the largest of the three dogs. "And you are Mudnose?"

"Aye rham, my lady. Please, you have spoken wi' our Queen?" the hound answered.

"I have." The naiad shifted uncomfortably. "This may be tough to accept, but she is now a Willow tree Dryad."

"We are aware," Orieus answered. "We found the bottle that contained the potion that did it. Is she well?"

"For a tree spirit who knows very little of what it is to be one, she is doing very well." Arisumae paused. Looking around, she motioned Orieus and Mudnose closer.

In a whisper, she continued. "My friend Fisrahd Ashe has taken her under his tutelage and is teaching her how to be a dryad. It was he who asked me to get this message to you. The trees within the shield suffered greatly during the time of the Witch's rule and they are very slow to trust. Fiz and Susan hope to be able to convince them to let you in, but it will take some time for them to do so."

Orieus nodded. "I understand." The centaur settled to the ground beside the stream. "Arisumae, I do not know how much Susan knows about her situation. It is important, though, that she be aware her siblings and subjects are doing everything in their power to restore her to her rightful place. She must be warned that time is short. We only have until the next full moon, now a mere three weeks away, to affect her restoration or she will remain a dryad forever."

The Naiad began to sink back into the stream. "I will carry your message to her. Make a camp here, and I will return with news as I am able."

Orieus bowed to Arisumae. "I will post camps at the compass points so as to protect your participation from discovery, my lady."

She nodded and disappeared with a splash.


	13. Knowledge

**A/N:** Well, it's been a bit, sorry, real life has a way of wiggling its way into my little fantasy world. The good news in all this is that later, when I write about what Peter and Edmund are feeling on discoving Susan's relationship with Fiz, it will all have a bit of an anchor in reality(Sorry Lee! Sorry Sis! ;-). Thanks again to all of my loyal readers! (My last chapter picked up over 50 hits in 3 days!) Thanks again to my beta Straitjacket. I know I keep saying this, but without her ability to read the rough draft and _see_ what I am _not_ describing, these chapters would not be nearly so good.

**Knowledge**

_1_

Buzz zz zz...

Peter's ears pricked up at the noise, getting closer to the target area. He raised his only weapon against the enemy, ready to use at a moment's notice...

SMACK! Buzz.

"Should we intervene?" A nearby marsh-wiggle muttered. "Even if he is the King, self immolation should not be allowed."

"Dressed as he is, in this wretched hot and humid weather, perhaps he is masochistic?" The wiggle's companion replied.

"Well, if he isn't, his horse surely is, lugging that great mass of armor around all the time. Of course, I expect we'll all get our turn with that load." Said a third while studiously staring at the ground for any sign of the hairbrush.

"Damn mosquitoes!" Peter carefully rubbed the side of his face, scowling. Once again he'd failed to reduce the coastal insect population..

'At least they aren't sized comparable to this area's other inhabitants.'

In that respect, at least, his party had been lucky; the giants had so far left them alone. Strangely, he hadn't even seen one on this trip. On the previous occasions when he'd ventured north of the Shribble, giant encounters were commonplace.

'Maybe the raids are encouraging them to stay back from the border?' He wondered.

Peter stared off toward the northern horizon. As far as he could see were the low rolling hills of the Ettinsmoor. Occasionally, large gray boulders rose above the brown grasses that were swaying with slight breezes that never seemed to reach to where he was standing. He glanced up as a dark and heavy cloud blocked out the sun and a hot drizzle began to fall. The air was thick with moisture and salt from the nearby ocean. A border scout was guiding them to an area of rocky cliffs where Hags had been known to congregate for their ceremonies.

All around him, marsh-wiggles, their straw hats shedding the falling water, walked with their faces to the ground, scanning for the missing brush. He noticed that the mosquitoes were leaving their mud colored skin alone.

"Hard ground again for the night's sleeping," Peter heard one mutter.

"Aye. Or if it do be soft, it'll most likely be damp," his neighbor replied.

"Rather good of the King to come along, since we're all to be killed when the giants arrive," a third mentioned.

Peter shook his head with a wry grin. If anyone else in Narnia had said that, he'd have braced them thoroughly for their defeatist attitude. But, he was learning, for a marsh-wiggle, such a comment was high praise for his own fortitude.

The previous evening, he'd shared a meal with the Militia Captain. When he'd complimented the marsh-wiggle on the delicious meal, the reply had been quite enlightening.

"Aye, you disliked it, but Your Majesty is very good to use kindness to build your troops loyalty," the captain had replied.

"No, good sir. The eel stew was truly delicious," Peter had protested

"Sire, you have my fealty. I am used to being told how inadequate my culinary skills are. Such poor fare is no rarity from my pot, I'm afraid. I should think, actually, that this is quite the worst dish I have made in my life; I suppose it's just my luck, you being the King and all."

Peter had dropped any further protestations. It was clear that marsh-wiggles just did not know how to accept compliments.

His reverie was disturbed by the sight of one of the young centaurs he had sent out with the advance guard. The soldier was galloping rapidly towards him, weaving swiftly through the marsh-wiggles who looked up with dour expressions in his wake.

"Have you ridden far?" Peter asked, noting the centaur panting.

"No, My Liege, at least not so far in a straight line." He tried to catch his breath. "These marsh-wiggles are such fatalists that they see no point in dodging an oncoming runner."

Peter nodded and gave the soldier a wry grin. "Report," he commanded, after the Centaur's breathing had slowed.

"Giants, sir. We've caught glimpses of them moving off to the north and west."

"Away from us?" Peter's brow furrowed at this unexpected information.

"Yes, Sire."

"Strange." Peter looked again toward the northern horizon, then west, noting a low ridge that was almost out of view. In spite of the humidity and the warm drizzle, he felt a shiver in his spine.

"Tell the guard commander to extend the perimeter and reinforce our left flank. Giants moving away from us makes me feel uneasy."

The centaur saluted then turned and galloped off across the rolling moor in the direction from which he had come.

Peter began to have some very marsh-wiggle thoughts of his own.

'What are the giants up to?'

_2_

Lucy looked back down the streets of Vin to the harbor where the _Transcendent Herald _lay at anchor, splendidly displaying the flags and banners of a ship of state. The quiet of the wine port made a sharp but pleasant contrast with the welcome she had received at the Island's Capital earlier that week. She shared a smile with the pair of guards accompanying her. She could tell by their relaxed but alert stance that they too preferred the peaceful air to the pressing crowds of functionaries and revelers they'd dealt with in Terebinthia City.

"The Swimming Minotaur," Lucy read the sign over the door.

Her inquiries had led her to this quaint inn on a hill north of town. On explaining her mission, the innkeeper led her to a corner of the tavern and introduced her to his great-grandfather.

"Lass, I know naught about any named Elgyn, but we do have a Guardian." He paused. "O'course it be thirsty work t' tell a story."

"Granfa, she is here with a warrant from King Gess and is a Queen in her own right," the innkeeper protested.

Lucy chuckled. "Good sir, it would not be right for me to seek a service without providing fair recompense. Even if your grandfather's story does not aid my quest, its sharing will be more than worth the price of settling his thirst. Might I also purchase a small glass of the local red? I have heard much about the wines of Vin. For me to be here without trying them would be a terrible waste, do you not think?"

The innkeeper bustled off and returned momentarily with a large tankard of mead for his grandfather, and a glass of red wine for Lucy.

Lucy studied the wineglass critically; inhaling the rich aroma, admiring the deep shade of the liquid and tasting a tiny sip. As she savored the wine's impact on each of her senses, she remembered an early lesson Mr. Tumnus had given her family regarding the proper appreciation of such drinks.

_"Fine wine should never be gulped, for there is no insult in leaving a wine in its glass for the mere purpose of admiring its scent and color," _Mr. Tumnus had said.

The old man raised his tankard. "To ye' good health, my lady."

She smiled and took a sip of her wine, then she raised her glass to the old man. "To an engaging story."

The old man chuckled. "Aye, a good yarn."

"I was but a lad you see, when this all occurred." He took another sip of the mead.

"Ye are Narnian I understand, so ye'll know 'bout the White Witch's domination of that land. Well, her designs spread much further than the borders of yer country, my dear. The Lone Islands tried to resist her by ignoring her, but when she put her forces to sea, they quickly capitulated, them not having any forces with which to actively resist her." He paused and took a sip of his mead. "Hows your wine?

"Very good, thank you," Lucy replied.

The old man continued. "The ease of that conquest whet her appetite and so she turned her eye on my fair Terebinthia. With the aid of those traitorous pirates down in Dravale, she assembled an invasion fleet. Knowing that a landing anywhere on the Binthian Plain would be a disaster, she sent her forces to land here in Vin. The high ridges made a right potent obstruction for the King to reinforce by land and her fleet would block 'em by sea."

Lucy glanced out a window to the right of her seat. From there, she could see the vineyard covered slopes of the northern ridge running off toward Mount Tere on the western horizon.

"Rumors, had been swirling about for months when her ships finally appeared on the eastern horizon." Beginning to relive the moment, the old man shivered as though caught out in a snowstorm. "An icy fog rolled in ahead of 'em. The King's meager fleet sailed to meet the invaders. Brave, brave men them sailors was."

He shook his head sadly. "Through the fog us'ns ashore heard the sound of drums and trumpets, then the crack of wood as oars snapped and they's hulls crunched together. They was the clang and clatter of swords from across the water and finally the wooshing roar of ships set afire."

Lucy jumped back a bit as the old man waved his arms, and mug, in emphasis with the description.

The wrinkled veteran held his tankard toward the front window of the tavern which overlooked the fjord. "'Em brave men's been honored as best we know how with the statue down et the harbor. Not one returned but 'ems disabled or destroyed three times their number before they was felled." He held up his mug in silent salute to the fallen, then drained it and waved to his grandson for a refill.

The innkeeper hurried over, looking questioningly at Lucy.

Lucy nodded.

Oblivious to the interplay, his eyes focused on events sixty years in the past, the old man continued with the story. "The militia was mustered to meet the Witch's forces on the beaches. I was a fair hand with a drum then, so I stood wi' da Captain on a hill where we could see the battle. I would drum de Captain's orders and watch the ships sailing in. As the ships reached the point yonder..." The old man gestured out the window towards a prominent spit of land. "...They's a great commotion from the assembled troops. Ah, thank ye." His second mead had arrived and he paused to take a swallow.

While he drank, Lucy cradled her wineglass to her chin, breathing its scent, and trying to assemble a coherent picture in her head.

'Surely, by now the Captain would be dead, but if he was the guardian, perhaps he had heirs.' Her thoughts were interrupted by the story teller's ancient voice.

"Ahh. Where was... oh, right... I looked off west where de troops was all pointin. At firs' all I saw was Mount Tere, but 'en I spotted a black dot moving swiftly again' da far ridge."

The old man looked at Lucy as if he were trying to decide if he could trust her. He took another sip of his mead then smiled at her as if he had come to a decision.

In a conspiratorial whisper, he continued. "We don't make much noise about it, but you see, Mount Tere is home to a dragon."

"Ah," Lucy said. "A dragon."

"Ye doubt me Lass?"

"Nay sir, for I've seen it myself. It dove at my ship as we were approaching the Capital. Strangely, at the last moment, it veered off." Lucy gave a shiver at the memory of the giant creature.

"Aye, an a right fearsome beast it can be too, but in all my years I hae ne'er heard o' it attacking a Terebinthian, lessing a'course that Terebinthian be a cow or a goat."

"A'course, back then no one was sure about the beast. So when the army seen it comin' some o'them broke and ran, but most, like me, stood 'n what we witnessed stayed with every one o'us."

His eyes once again took on a distant focus as he described what his younger self saw that day. "The dragon stayed by the ridge 'til it reached the bay then it climbed straight up until it was just this tiny bronze dot in the sunlight. A great screech echoed down from the ridges."

A somewhat wild look came over him as he took another swallow of his mead.

"'Cap'n wassit doing?' I asked. He had no answer then, and by the time he did, we'd both seen it. Trailin' smoke like a burnin' arrow, the beast dropped on top of one of the pirate ships. Extending its claws, the dragon ripped the spars and sails from the mast. The force of the hit crushed the upper deck and forced the stern below the water. Tha' ship immediately flooded and sank."

He paused and grasped Lucy's hand in his. "None o'us was sure wha' we was seein' until da dragon turned to attack its third ship. Den we realized, i'was on our side. I'was o'ly attacking the invader ships! The White Witch's fleet attempted to retreat. I don't know if any of them made it back to Narnia or not, but I do know that the dragon was still attacking as the survivors sailed over the horizon." He drained his tankard and set it on the table.

"Every since then, here in Vin, we have referred to the dragon as our Guardian."

Lucy took a deep swallow of her wine, thanked the old man and paid the innkeeper. As she lead her guards back to the waterfront she added up the stories and her instructions.

"Well, Queen Valiant," she mumbled to herself. "It looks like we are going after a dragon."

_3_

Cervid moved slowly among the trees and bushes, taking great care to stay downwind and out of sight of the numerous bloodhounds in the area. Earlier he'd watched a conversation between a Centaur, one of the hounds, and a Naiad; now he was maneuvering carefully away to report to his fellows.

Having safely evaded the Narnian forces arrayed in the glade, he retreated more swiftly and easily. As the minotaur ran, he made note of two pair of stacked stones off the trail to his right. At the sign he was nearing the hidden minotaur encampment he stopped. Reaching under a bush, he pulled out a pine bough which he began using to erase what little trail he was leaving. When Cervid came upon the third pair of stacked stones, he turned left off of the trail into what looked like an otherwise unremarkable section of the woods.

Within three paces, he had stepped into the dark twilight of the magic that hid their camp from observation.

"Halt!" a stern voice commanded.

Cervid stopped and stood at attention.

"Thunder," the voice issued the camp password challenge.

"Stampede," he replied.

"Welcome back Cervid, General Kine has arrived and is awaiting your report."

Nerves that hadn't bothered him while he was surrounded by Narnian soldiers now revealed themselves. His wide-set eyes began to sweep the camp, searching for signs of danger and making note of escape routes. "The General is here?" Cervid asked.

"Aye, he's in the Captain's tent," the guard replied.

His eyes focused on the angular black fabric of the Captain's tent as Cervid trotted through the gloomy light towards his first ever audience with the General.

Upon entering, the young Minotaur scout immediately knelt before his superiors. "General, I have the latest news of the Narnians."

The two Minotaur officers stood by a map table. In the dim light of camp lanterns; their horns, eyes and armor all had a reddish glow. Kine nodded to the Captain then turned to face the young scout.

"Report, Cervid."

Cervid rose. "I was able to overhear a Naiad briefing two senior members of the Narnian force. It is as we suspected." He approached the map table. "The human queen's tree took root near here." He pointed to a clearing divided by a small stream. "Currently, she is protected by a Dryad Diversion Spell." With a charcoal stick, he traced a light circle around the clearing. "This same spell appears to be hampering our opposition. The dryads appear unwilling to allow anyone in."

"Interesting." The General studied the location on the map. "What else?"

"The girl is in the process of learning how to be a dryad. She and a companion are attempting to convince the dryads within the spell to lift it."

"I see." Kine rubbed his chin while contemplating the map.

Cervid picked up four red markers from a pile at the edge of the table. He placed two along the stream on either side of the circle. The other two he placed on a line that bisected the circle at right angles to the stream. "Their leader, a Centaur calling himself Orieus, mentioned positioning camps at the compass points around the Diversion Spell."

"How many do we face?" The Captain asked.

The scout turned to face his commander. "I'd estimate them at brigade strength, all of them Narnian Regulars. I heard talk that the Militia had been called up. When they arrive, that could double their effective numbers." Cervid's nervous stomach gave an audible grumble. Mortified, the scout stood silent, forcing the twitching muscles in his legs to remain still while staring at top of the map table.

Kine looked over to the other officer and nodded.

"Good report Cervid." The Captain stated. He grinned when the young minotaur looked up and met his eyes. "The cook still has dinner on. Dismissed."

Keeping his giddy relief in check, Cervid bowed to his superiors then turned to leave.

"Captain, with that confirmation, let's review your unit plan." Cervid heard General Kine state as he was exiting the tent. "All we need are..." The voices faded behind him as he went in search of the camp cook to soothe his suddenly hungry stomach.


	14. Fear Itself

**A/N: ** Okay, I have officially scared myself. During the three weeks since chapter 13 was posted, I have plotted out the remainder of this story. I had expected, oh five, maybe six more chapters, but no, it came out to be eighteen more! This thing is going to wrap somewhere north of 60K words and 32 chapters! Which means I need to get really inspired and try to get back on my chapter a week schedule! Thanks again Straitjackit for the excellent betaing! (This chapter would be about 1500 words shorter without her input!)

**Fear Itself**

_1_

"Okay Susan, are you ready?" Fiz asked.

A light breeze gently swayed the curtain of leaves that surrounded her tree. Sitting on the bank of the stream that burbled happily in the shade of her tree's branches, Susan trailed her bare foot in the cool water. With her toes, she could taste the richness of the previous night's rain mingling with the stream's other waters. Savoring the flavor of the minerals carried in the runoff gave her an easy distraction from the pain she knew she was about to experience.

"I suppose." Susan closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Are you sure we have to do it this way?"

"We all have to learn, My Little Willow. I'd use my own tree, but its height makes teaching difficult." He paused and traced a finger along her cheek. Susan relaxed a bit, but kept her eyes closed. "Besides, it would not be fair to inflict injury on an innocent tree for the mere purpose of learning." Fiz reached up and grabbed a pair of fronds that dangled above where they sat, pulling them down between them.

Susan could feel the pressure along her left arm as Fiz tugged on the branch. She started giggling and opened her eyes to see Fiz gently stroking the leaves he was holding.

"Will you just get on with breaking them so I can learn how to heal them!" she managed to say between giggles.

Fiz gave them another stroke, carefully watching Susan's face.

"Okay, brace yourself." He took the fronds between his hands and with a quick motion, folded them in half.

Susan felt each branch as the fibers snapped. Her giggles changed to a sharp inhalation between clenched teeth. She cradled her left hand against her chest.

"It feels like you broke my fingers," she growled through her teeth.

"Now Susan, we talked about this. You're... what's that word you used?" Fiz's brow furrowed as he struggled to remember, his right hand swirling at the wrist for a moment before he brought his fingers together in a snap. "An-thro-po-morphizing." Grinning, he continued. "Separate what you feel as a tree from your consciousness. Otherwise, you won't be able to concentrate to heal the injury."

Behind closed eyes, Susan shook her head. "It hurts."

He reached out and grabbed her wrists. "Look at your hands."

Susan opened her eyes slowly, first looking across to Fiz, who smiled reassuringly at her, then looking down at her hands which were displayed across his wrists. She could see no injury, though the fingers of the left stung as if burned.

"Which hurts?" Fiz asked.

"The left one." Susan could feel tears welling in her eyes at the pain. "My fingers sting and feel numb at the same time."

Fiz dropped her right hand. Still holding her left wrist, he raised her arm between them. "Wiggle you fingers," he commanded.

Dreading the pain she knew she was about to feel, Susan closed her eyes. She felt a tear break loose and roll down her cheek as her eyes squeezed shut.

"Keep your eyes open and wiggle your fingers!" Fiz commanded, this time with steel in his voice.

Shocked at Fiz's intensity, Susan did so. She stared amazed as they actually moved and she didn't feel more pain.

"Make a fist." He instructed.

Susan paused a moment, looking from her hand to Fiz's stolid face and back to her hand before she clenched it into a tight fist.

"Grab my hand and squeeze." He ordered, with a hint of steel remaining in his voice.

This time she followed his instruction immediately.

"Do you still feel the pain?" The light tone she was used to hearing from him returned.

"Yes!" Her eyes widened as she stammered out the rest of the sentence. "A...a...and no!"

Fiz's broad smile beamed at her. "Where do you feel the pain?"

"I... I'm not sure." She looked at Fiz, puzzled. "I feel it, but I can't tell you _where_ I feel it."

"Excellent!" Fiz leapt to his feet. "That means you're ready for your next lesson." Offering his hand, he helped her to her feet. With an encouraging smile, he gestured toward the trunk of her tree.

Hand in hand, the two of them walked the fifteen feet from her fringe to her trunk. Fiz reached out a hand to the tree.

"Trust me," he whispered, as a blindfold formed over her eyes. Carefully he turned her around several times.

"You're not dizzy are you Susan?"

"No."

"Alright. What I want you to do is reach out with your senses and walk to the broken branches."

"You want me to what?" Susan was certain that Fiz was pulling some kind of joke.

"You can feel the pain, but it isn't in your dryad form. Walk to it," Fiz instructed gently.

Feeling a little silly, Susan began taking tentative steps, trying to move in the direction that seemed to radiate the most intense pain. She stumbled once and was reassured when Fiz instantly grabbed her arm to steady her. As she moved, she realized that if she concentrated, she could _see_ the branches of her tree around her. She smiled when at one point she reached up and felt the fork in the branch that she knew was there. She reached a location where the pain seemed very intense.

"I think I'm here," she said.

"Reach out your hand and gently grab the area where the pain is originating," Fiz said.

Susan reached out her right hand and immediately touched a willow frond. Moving her hand up the frond slowly, she felt a shiver running down her spine. Finally she stopped.

Fiz removed her blindfold. Cradled in her hand was one of the fronds Fiz had snapped. "Excellent! And on your first try as well."

Susan felt warm as her chest swelled at the praise. In spite of the pain she continued to feel, a large smile formed on her face.

"It is possible to reach out to any tree and feel it's pain." Fiz smiled and grasped her free hand. "Your tree's pain is what called to me the day we met. Once you feel the pain, you have a guide to find the injury so you can heal it."

Fiz took the other broken strand in his own hand. "Just like when you walk away from the support of your tree, reach out to the life around you. Healing an injury takes more energy than sustaining your dryad form. Gather that energy to yourself then focus it in your hands." He put his hands together on either side of the broken frond. "You are pushing that life-energy into the break, accelerating the natural healing of the injury." Susan felt the pain diminish. He removed his hands and the break was completely healed. "Your turn. Hold the broken ends in their proper orientation, or the break will heal with a knot."

Carefully, Susan positioned the frond so that the broken ends were properly aligned. She pressed her hands together around the break. Reaching out, she felt the life around her. Gathering it to herself, she channeled it into her hands then mentally pushed it into the broken limb. Separately, she could feel the break knitting itself back together and the pain fading. She kept the pressure up until she sensed that the break was fully healed.

When she let go of the frond, Fiz pulled her into a hug then gave her a quick kiss. "Absolutely excellent, My Little Willow."

"Thank you Rahd." she answered, just before letting out a scream as a jet of cold water landed on them both.

Susan glared as laughter rang from the stream. Brushing the water from her arm, she looked at Fiz who had clearly received the worst of the deluge. She felt her own laughter rising as she took in the way the water plastered his hair down into his eyes. Fiz's shoulders shook as Arisumae's amusement infected the two dryads.

"If this is how your friends are going to treat us Fiz, I might just dig up my tree and move!" Susan stated with amused fury.

Fiz swept the wet hair from his eyes and quickly wrapped Susan into a very wet hug. "I don't think you'll be going anywhere just yet My Little Willow."

Susan pushed back and playfully tried to wiggle free. "Hmm. I think you might be in need of another cold shower."

Fiz leaned back, his eyes wide in mock fear. "You wouldn't."

Susan cocked her eyebrow and looked over at the Naiad. "Wouldn't I?"

Arisumae brought her laughter under control. "I will say this is great fun. And you, dear Fizrahd, are well overdue for a good and thorough soaking, but I do bring news from your new friend's subjects."

Susan and Fiz settled down on the bank of the stream while the Naiad perched herself on a large, wet stone nearby.

Arisumae nodded to Susan. "My Queen. General Orieus sends his greetings. The Narnian army is encamped outside the shield awaiting the success of your efforts to convince the elders."

"Orieus?" Puzzled, Susan looked up from the finger game Fiz was playing with her hand. "What of my brothers and Lucy?" Susan asked.

"The message is that 'Your siblings and subjects are doing everything in their power to restore you to your rightful place.' While I waited for Mudnose and Orieus, the hound I waited with mentioned several quests." Arisumae frowned in concentration. "Peter... Peter is in the Ettinsmoor seeking your stolen hairbrush. Edmund seeks the Hag Meertz and a potent vial she carries." Her face curled into a sneer at mention of the Hag. "Lucy seeks the Guardian of Terebinthia and a box that is in his possession. The good news is that the faun Tumnus has nearly gathered all of the remaining potion that made you like this."

Chewing on her lower lip, Susan shivered and snuggled up against Fiz who wrapped his arms around her. "I fear for my siblings. We are at our strongest when we work together and now they are scattered all over the world."

Freeing a hand, Fiz nestled her cheek against his shoulder and stroked her hair. "Fear not My Little Willow," He whispered. "Though they are separated, their task is one and the strength of that bond goes with them." Fiz pulled her in a little closer, Susan could feel his warm breath as he lightly kissed the top of her head.

Arisumae spoke again. "Orieus does send a warning," She glanced at Fiz before returning her focus to Susan. "If you are not successfully restored by the next full moon, your transformation becomes permanent."

Susan sat up straight. "P...p...permanent?" Susan's shoulders sagged and she squeezed Fiz hard, needing something comforting to hold onto.

"So they informed me. Your siblings have about three weeks to complete their quests and gather here."

She felt Fiz stiffen within her grasp. She looked up at him and tried to straighten her posture.

His hand came up and caressed the side of her face. "You don't have to be brave for me," he whispered. "Let me be strong for you."

Susan didn't sob, but she did relax and let her fear and tears mingle on Fiz's shoulder.

_2_

Lucy spent the night aboard the _Transcendent Herald_ making plans with her guard captain and the ships master, for her expedition to the dragon's cave on the slopes of Mount Tere. Mundane preparations such as how many guards to take along, how long it would take for various sized parties to reach the caves, how much food, how many horses would be required to carry provisions... By the time her head hit the pillow, Lucy was convinced that she would be dreaming about bags of oats and lines of slowly plodding horses.

Lucy awoke in a cold sweat, her entire body tense. Her nostrils flaring at the remembered smell of smoke from her dream. She remembered something about horses, and closing her eyes and there being fewer horses, until there was only her, plodding along. Then a shadow and a smell of smoke. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table in her cabin. Slowly, she calmed and went back to sleep.

The next morning, groggy from her late-night awakening, Lucy packed her gear and headed ashore. Putting the nightmare behind her, she focused on getting her expedition under way. Making liberal use of her travel funds and King Gess' warrant, Lucy had her party organized to depart Vin by noon. Having checked the maps and distances, she sent the _Transcendent Herald_ to Arcalem by way of the Capital so that King Gess could be informed of her plans. By taking the longer route around the north side of the island, the ship would also avoid the pirate infested waters off Dravale.

As they left Vin, they passed through the fertile farmlands that kept the people of the valley well fed. Every couple of hours, they passed through a small village where the local farmers and tradesmen lived. At each village, the townsfolk turned out to look upon Lucy's party. It wasn't until they were entering the third village that Lucy realized why the Terebinthians were making such a fuss. Her guard was made up almost entirely of Fauns and Talking Beasts. Neither of which type of creature existed on the island, outside of her party.

It was beautiful country to ride through with the pleasant breeze from the sea, the fresh smell of the crops and the green vineyards arrayed up the slopes on either side of the valley. Her companions chatted happily about the people they were passing, the scenery, and the grand adventure they were on.

No matter how much the landscape tried to distract her though, her mind kept coming back to one important fact.

'I have to face a dragon.'

_Bronze scales flashing in the sunlight, smoke trailing from its nostrils as it dove._ Her mind studied every detail of that image looking for any sign of weakness and finding none. 'While dragons eat knights, they capture fair maidens. When I face it, should I wear my armor or a dress?' She slumped over in her saddle as she pondered how she was going to get past the dragon and find the box.

A satyr jogged up alongside her horse. "My Queen, don't be worried. Aslan guides us, trust him and things will work out right."

Her party stayed the night in a village situated by a ford across the Vin River. The village's inn was a comfortable stone building with both private and common rooms. Lucy settled on the goose-down mattress and tried to empty her mind. In spite of the pleasant surroundings, dreams of smoke, fire and bronze scales awakened her during the night. In some of the dreams, cold scaly claws wrapped themselves around her, pinning her arms. In others, she would awaken with the image of ivory teeth and a smell of smoke in her head. After the third nightmare, Lucy sat on the edge of her bed.

"Aslan," She closed her eyes. "I need my strength to save Susan. Please take these nightmares from me." Keeping her eyes closed, she lay back down. As her mind faded, she swore she heard purring.

Lucy awoke to the morning sun shining through her window. As she got ready for the day, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Opening the window she found a tuft of golden fur caught on the sill.

Later that morning they crossed the Vin and began to climb the slopes leading to Terry's Gap, a high valley that joined Vin Valley with Dragon Valley. Harsh sunlight beat down on their heads as they left the shaded confines of the valley roads. What had been a pleasant ride through civilized country now became a hard climb as they began taking switchback trails up the steeper slopes. The demanding nature of the climb managed to keep her from thinking too much about what waited at the end of this journey.

That night, between the exhaustion from the days exertions and the tuft of golden fur clenched in her fist, she didn't worry at all about dreaming of dragons.

_3_

A watery gray light shown through the high windows, dulling the normally bright colors of Peter's study. The damp drizzle outside spreading its dank fingers even to this usually light inner sanctum. He watched Tumnus walk around the room lighting lamps and candles, slowly banishing the gloom to the dim corners of the room. The false cheeriness of the flickering light, however, could not cut through the cold dread that had dogged him for the last two days.

Edmund stood by the map table Peter had ordered set up a week before. The entire northern border of Narnia was covered with pins, each designating a potential location for Meertz and the vial of Jadis' blood. He looked over at Tumnus, standing at the end of the table and shook his head. With a year, he could have every location searched, but with only a couple of weeks, he would have to be incredibly lucky to find her in time.

Turning from the table, he walked to a glass cabinet that sat beneath the windows. He looked briefly at the heavy clouds before turning his attention downward to what Peter had taken to calling the 'ancient relics'. As he first focused on the glass his mind wandered. 'Winners write the history books,' he thought. 'If I win, and we get Susan back, it's not cheating.'

The tapping of Tumnus' hooves and furtive whispering behind him pulled his mind away from the right and wrong of what he was about to do. He focused on the contents of the cabinet. Neatly folded were the clothes each of them had been wearing when they had arrived in Narnia. Peter's shirt and trousers, His own button down shirt, shorts and knee socks. Their shoes, highly polished, but still showing the deep scuffs of the wild country scrambling they had not been designed for. Lucy's print dress and leggings.

Again his thoughts were interrupted. This time by the apothecary.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this, Your Majesty?" Tiaana asked him for the third time since she'd entered the castle.

He lifted the cover off the case, reached in and ran his hands across the white blouse and brown tweed skirt that Susan had worn. He closed his eyes and remembered how poorly he had treated his siblings on that arrival. Seeking to hurt Lucy, just to make himself feel better, running off to Jadis' castle. Setting the Secret Police on them and the Beavers.

Tears rolling down his cheeks, he looked up at the cherry tree dryad standing across the room. "No Tiaana, I do not want to do this. But, by Aslan, if I am to complete my quest in time, I see no other choice." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and composed himself as he closed the case and returned to the map table.

Tiaana bowed her head of flaming red hair. Reaching into her ever present pouch, she removed a glass vial.

"Per your request, a tracking potion keyed to the vial of the White Witch's blood that Meertz carries. You understand the danger you face, having once been under her spell. Even the tiny amount of her blood that is in this potion could overwhelm you." She set the small jar on the map.

Edmund closed his eyes, remembering the sick feeling when he'd realized that Jadis truly was evil while still knowing that he had no choice but to do her bidding.

"For Susan, it is a risk I must take. Without Meertz's vial, we will not be able to change her back." He looked down at the handkerchief, noting the ornately embroidered 'L' in the corner.

Tiaana walked around the table, took his hand and looked hard into his eyes. He found himself unable to break from her gaze. "Edmund." She placed her other hand on his chest. "Here, you are good. When things are at their darkest, remember those of us who are your friends, let us be your anchor." She released his hand and bowed. "My King."

Edmund nodded as she stepped away. He looked over at Tumnus still staring at the map. Tumnus looked up at him and nodded.

Reading the pain etched on Edmund's face, Tumnus spoke. "You were completely unfamiliar with Narnia when you told the White Witch of my friendship with your sister." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, confronting his own inner demon. "We both served her, and we both suffered by her hand. I am honored to count you among my friends."

Edmund clasped Tumnus' shoulder. "If this goes wrong, look after the others for me. He handed the faun the handkerchief. "Especially Lucy."

Tumnus stared at the dragon foot shaped island near the edge of the map. Edmund watched him silently mouth the island's name, _Terebinthia,_ before the faun answered him.

"You have my word, King Edmund," Tumnus tore his eyes away from the map. "You are strong, you broke her grip on your mind even before being rescued. I have no doubts that you will return whole and triumphant."

Edmund reached over the table and picked up the bottle. "I guess there's not much point in waiting to do this."

Tumnus and Tiaana both looked away as he opened the bottle and swallowed its contents. It tasted horrible, worse than the week old laundry water he'd been tricked into drinking at boarding school. He felt a shiver, like the first chill breeze of winter, run through his muscles as the potion hit his system. Looking down at the map, he knew exactly where Meertz was, not only that, but he felt like an idiot for not thinking of looking there first.

"Tumnus, have my guard readied, I ride for Beaversdam in the hour."

He looked again at the map, tracing the fork off of the Great River, up the valley to Jadis' former castle.

As he studied the route, a sultry voice rang in his head.

_'Are you looking for me? Son of Adam...'_


	15. Swordplay

**A/N: **I really wish I could create this as fast as I want to read it! Lickitysplit, you were wondering when the adventure would get rolling, I hope this is a good start to that. I look forward to hearing what you think! Description, emotion, and Peter stumbling about like a deranged ballerina are all credited to my faithful and talented beta-reader Straitjackit.

**Swordplay**

_1_

Peter stood in the dank grotto studying the burnt patch of ground with the trampled circle surrounding it. Grey clouds scudded inland across the sky. Wisps of salty spray wound through the rocks to cling to his arms and face.

He knelt by the remains of the fire. On the edge, he found the unburned remnants of willow fronds.

"This is the site," he announced, his mood as gray as the ash clinging to the scorched branches he'd picked up.

None of the marsh-wiggles had any reply for the heavy gloom that colored his words. Peter shed silent tears for the poor willow dryad that had been sacrificed on this ground.

After several minutes, he stood. Nodding once more to the ashes, he turned and faced those who had accompanied him down the rock face. "Narnians, we must..."

"King Peter!" a voice floated down from the cliffs above.

Puzzled at the interruption, Peter looked up to see a centaur of the guard peering over the edge.

"Speak!" he cried back at the soldier.

"Giants, my Liege! Advancing across the moor in numbers!" Even across the distance, the King could detect the tremble in the young centaur's voice.

With a single word, Peter's reverent sorrow was shelved. Adrenaline coursed through his system. It could have been his imagination, but he thought he could feel the rhythmic thumping of marching feet shivering through the ground.

Peter mentally shifted gears from the search he was conducting to seeing to the defense of his forces. "Have the guard delay while I get the militia organized!"

The Centaur saluted then turned from the cliff.

Taking a deep breath, Peter turned back to those who had accompanied him into the grotto. "We must search here and we will right the wrong that was done here, but first we must return to the cliff top and prepare a defense." He turned and sprinted toward the path leading up the rocks.

Peter crested the cliff just in time to witness a giant from the vanguard of the approaching mass engage with a gaggle of marsh-wiggle archers. Waving his standard bearer to follow, he ran for a nearby hillock to garner a better overview of the field.

Peter dropped to one knee as a tremor shook the hill. He looked up to see that the club wielding giant had landed in the midst of the archers. He stood and made a quick scan of the battlefield; none of the other giants were yet close enough to engage. Having not yet seen marsh-wiggles in a fight, he turned his attention back to the developing skirmish.

Drifting over the intervening distance, he could just make out the voice of a Wiggle Archer. "Oh well, guess I may as well shoot. He's going to squish me anyway." As the other archers spread out, Peter watched the arrow fly from the bow of the archer furthest from the giant. The arrow hit and stuck, like a dart, in the thick skin of the giant's left shoulder.

Cocking back it's huge club, the enraged giant turned to charge the archer.

Before their titanic foe could lumber more than a couple of steps, a second wiggle archer, fifty feet away, let fly an arrow that caught it in the opposite shoulder.

"All this is going to do is make him mad," Peter heard the marsh-wiggle complain under the bellows of the giant.

"Stand still you little vermin!" the giant shouted with confused frustration as it turned to attack the second archer.

Peter noticed that the marsh-wiggles with their gray skin and mud colored clothes nearly disappeared into the moor. The dense leviathan thought he was facing off against a single opponent, not a full squad.

"Oh, I will miss seeing my younglings again." Peter's head swiveled towards the voice as a third archer released an arrow which attached itself to the giants back. The giant, its shoulders beginning to resemble a pin cushion, spun in place trying to swat what stung him.

A centaur cantered up, leading Peter's horse. With great haste, a pair of Faun squires removed Peter's bundled armor from the back of the horse. Undoing the straps, one began untangling and sorting his armor into the correct order while the second helped him pull on the thick layer of padding he wore under the chain-mail. Sweat began to pour into his eyes as he attempted to continue watching the fight.

The archers fired in sequence, spinning the giant around in circles. Bellowing in rage, the giant flailed its club wildly, adding to its own confusion by hitting itself with the carved tree trunk.

The next layer of the King's armor was the mail. Tiny rings of interlocking steel, woven into a shirt that draped to mid thigh. Or at least it would if it hadn't become hung on the padding layer in the center of his back. The faun assisting him had run back to the pile to grab the shin-guard and grieves. Because of the way it caught, his arms were stuck reaching upward. Peter tried wiggling his shoulders, but that didn't free the jam. Looking like a deranged ballerina, he began hopping up and down attempting to free the stuck armor.

As Peter struggled to slip into his chain-mail, a squad of marsh-wiggle infantry trotted past his hill, towards the fight.

"Something really should be done," he heard the first say.

Freezing in mid bounce, the King locked eyes with the second infantry-wiggle as he spoke. "He is flailing about rather dangerously."

"I rather fear, even standing here, that I am about to be flattened," a short and much more frog-like marsh-wiggle added.

The faun ran back up to him.

"Sorry My Liege," his squire panted. "It took a moment to sort out the strapping."

Deftly, the faun released the stuck chain-mail. Finally able to lower his arms, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, Peter made eye contact with first of the Marsh-wiggle infantry to have spoken. For just a brief moment, he thought he saw the wiggle smile, at the very least, the corners of its mouth didn't turn downward so much.

"Whether the King falls on us or that giant steps on us; if I'm going to be squashed anyway, I may as well be doing something about it." Showing an uncharacteristic, if dull, enthusiasm, the first drew his sword and ran past the archers.

_2_

Orieus, his eyes closed, sat as close to the boundary as he could get, letting his body revel in the forces that were washing over it. Immersed in the sensations, his mind retreated back to one of his earliest memories. His first lesson in magic.

"_Yearling, all Centaur... all living things can do magic." The old centaur patted him on the head._

_Orieus looked upward at his grandmother's face, sunlight glinting off her reddish-brown hair._

_"How Granna?" He asked._

_All he wanted was to be a powerful magician, like this great and wise centauress sitting before him. In her eyes he could see years of knowledge. With the typical impatience of youth, he believed that her wisdom could be imparted through the simple act __of asking her to share it._

Orieus gave a very horse-like snort. 'I was a silly foal. Thank Aslan she was patient enough to teach me the difference between knowledge and wisdom.' He thought, before returning to his memory.

_"First, you must reach out your senses. Feel what is unseen around you." Her warm, dry hand slid down over his face, closing his eyes._

_The tickling sensation of the grass blades poking through his coat was all he could concentrate on._

_"Like the grass?" His high-pitched voice hopeful._

_"No grandson." Her soft voice replied. "Feel the life of that grass. Once you can tap that energy, anything is possible." He opened his eyes, and for a brief moment, expanding outward from the sun-glints in her hair, he could see energy rippling aroun__d his Granna Jaevyan._

Orieus' reverie broke. Opening his eyes, he could see the delicate, but powerful, web the trees had woven around their glade. The lines of power crossing and interlocking in such a way as to disguise any possible means of entry. He could see that the shield was an ancient and powerful spell, one designed by the Great Lion himself. It was taught to the dryads in the early days of Narnia and handed down through the years among them.

Aslan always wove an exemption; the naiad's ability to move freely through the barrier was his first hint. Clearly, it was a spell too strong to break, but with the appropriate preparations, he could take advantage of that exemption and circumvent the shield. With a bit of stiffness, he stood, stretched, and walked back to the camp.

An hour later, he stood again at the threshold of the barrier. In his right hand, he carried the Lion Standard. Wind sang through the trees and caught at the scarlet and gold symbol of Aslan's chosen kingdom. Below the banner was the flag of parley which combined with his weapons securely tied in their scabbards were signs of his intention to have peaceful discussion the dryads. In his left he carried a token gift of fertile soil.

As ordered, the other members of the Narnian army remained well back from the barrier. He nodded to his Lieutenants, turned and advanced to where he had been sitting earlier.

Again, he closed his eyes, felt for the life around him, and opened them to see the web.

"I am Orieus. Friend of Aslan. General of Narnia. Defender of ALL her citizens!"

His perception of the web shifted and he took a step forward.

_3_

The ringing sounds of swords clashing against armor and each other rattled off the surrounding landscape, punctuated by the twang of bows and whoosh of arrows.

"Your Majesty!" a young faun yelled over her shoulder. "You should retreat."

Lucy ignored the warning as she took careful aim on the pirate the faun was defending herself against. The sharp thrumming of the release was quickly followed by the thwack of her arrow dispatching the vile attacker.

It had begun as a very pleasant morning. Lucy awoke rested, for a change. On the advice of their Terebinthian guides, she had chosen to wear her new armor. The tough leather would help protect her as they scrambled down the steep and rocky trails that lead into Dragon Valley. That armor now stood against more than mere rock.

The stiff leather flexed smoothly as she drew an arrow from her swiftly dwindling supply and scanned for another target. She briefly aimed at a tall man wearing a goat headdress, but held her fire as a badger came rolling down the hill like a runaway boulder, before springing off the ground and lashing him with it's extended claws. Both of them went further down the ravine in a tangled mass.

Lucy swiftly found a new target and released.

"Missed!" Disappointment flared as she watched the arrow sail past the raider.

The last of her company came running past out of the narrow cleft behind her, but the pirates appeared to have reinforcements as well. She caught at the guard captain's arm.

"We do not have time to find another route," she told him. "We must win through here and make these vermin wary of coming anywhere near us while we travel!"

"Yes, my Queen."

The grizzled faun veteran turned to shout orders down the ravine. "We must win through! For Lucy and Narnia!"

"NO! Not for me! For Susan!" Lucy shouted, again taking aim and letting fly with her bow.

"For Queen Susan!" the captain shouted.

'For Susan and Narnia' echoed back and forth off the walls of the ravine; even the Terebinthian's in the party were yelling it.

Lucy fired off an arrow at a pirate standing atop the adjoining ridge and watched him stagger backward out of sight. She reached for her quiver as she spied another target. A beaver had been pinned into a narrow defile by the attacker. Her hand closed on empty air. She was out of arrows, and no one else was close to the beaver.

Lucy let loose a strident whistle. The jackdaw scout who'd first spied the pirates swooped low over head. Reaching into a sealed pouch she pulled out a pair of small soggy sacks attached with a short string. The jackdaw landed on her shoulder.

She handed the orange juice soaked bags to the bird.

"Go for the eyes," she ordered, pointing at the pirate attacking the beaver.

"I pray it works as well as it did in that food fight Edmund started last year," she muttered as the bird took flight.

Slinging her bow, she drew her sword and charged down the hill, intercepting a pirate aiming to attack her guard captain from behind.

As the parry of his first attack vibrated its way up her arm, she remembered the shield that was still stowed on her horse's back. A horse that was now more than a mile behind where she was battling. The thought made her suddenly cautious, and she missed several good opportunities to press home attacks against him. Her dwarf-steel blade sang and hummed as she swung it in the powerful defensive arcs she'd learned sparing with Edmund.

From the corner of her eye, she spied a round pirate shield leaning, discarded, against a boulder where it had rolled to a stop. Reaching again into her pouch, she pulled out a second pair of the citrus soaked bags. Locking her blade with her opponent's, she shoved the bags into his eyes. As the acid blurred his vision and stung the soft tissues, Lucy disengaged and dove for the shield.

Now properly able to defend herself, she went on the attack.

Half blinded, the enraged raider swung wildly at any perceived motion.

Lucy staggered backward as the he landed a solid blow across her shield. In spite of her prowess with the sword, she didn't have the mass to hold her ground against such a strike. With her left arm still tingling and numb she lashed out with her sword, catching the pirate in the arm.

At the first contact, her opponent leapt away from her blade. Landing poorly on a loose boulder, he stumbled and fell over backward. Lucy heard the sick crunch of his neck snapping as his head struck a large rock on the way down.

She looked up to see the other pirates retreating. Some of her guards were pursuing them.

She jumped on top of a boulder to call them back.

Before she could speak, she felt a thud in her left thigh. She looked down to see the green feathers of a short arrow sticking out of the leather armor that clad her leg, armor that had not been designed to stop the raw power of a crossbow bolt. A second bolt slammed into her right shoulder, knocking her backwards off of the boulder into the hairy arms of a satyr.

"Queen Lucy! The Queen's been shot!" he cried.

As he eased her to the ground, she felt him patting her around the waist. Pain began radiating outward from the leg wound. Her sharp inhalation of breath reminded her she had a bolt in her upper chest as well.

Unable to resist, she screamed, then screamed again as the act of doing so redoubled the pain she felt from her shoulder. Her right arm felt numb and her left leg felt cold. By concentrating on these other sensations, she was able to bring her pain somewhat under control.

"Where is it?" she heard the satyr mutter.

"N-not here," she said through clenched teeth, knowing he was seeking her cordial. Punctuated by her short, shallow breaths, she tried to tell him where to look.

"Horse. Under shield." With her left hand, she grabbed his arm. "One drop... on wound... mustn't waste."

Things got very blurry. Someone jostled her like they were trying to pick her up. Intense pain shot from her shoulder.

She screamed again and passed out.


	16. To Serve Another

**A/N: **Oo, I didn't realize how much fun writing Jadis could be! Based on the current standing outline, this is halfway. Yay! (Of course any lights you see for the next little while are still probably trains.) To my loyal readers, I am honored that you are still with me. As ever, my gracious thanks to Straitjackit for beta-ing my messes.

**To Serve Another**

_1_

_"Edmund, are you angry with me?"_

Carefully schooling his face to not show any reaction to the voice in his head, he turned to survey the group he was riding with. Already, they were beginning to keep their distance from him. Some out of respect for the battle he fought, some from fear due to his unexpected outbursts and one-sided arguments. Still others, a very few, felt embarrassment at being seen in a madman's company.

Edmund didn't blame them one bit. If the choice were possible, he'd be as far away from himself as he could get too.

_"I'm still here, Son of Adam. I've always been here and I always will be." _Jadis' voice was smug as she toyed with him from her position of advantage.

"You are evil. You always were, and I am sorry I ever fell for your tricks," he hissed under his breath. Still mindful of his companions, he resisted the urge to yell his reply.

_"Ah! Say what you wish, but the fact is I am here, and you have to listen to me." _Her smooth, calm, unruffled tone did more to infuriate him than any words she had spoken.

"Okay. I had problems of my own, but you twisted them. You tried to use me to kill my family!" Once more, she had gotten past his defenses. All thoughts of his traveling companions and what they might think to see him arguing with thin air went out of his head.

_"Oh no, dear one. I would never have killed them." _Pious as a nun, Jadis' voice seeped through the last barriers he tried to raise against her.

"What about your story to Aslan! And the Stone Table!" Outrage laced his words.

_"You betrayed ME! I had a RIGHT to your blood." _Cold fury and icy venom dripped from the voice.

Edmund blanched, and staggered in the saddle at her ferocity. He knew her voice had physical force when she was alive, but to feel that from a shadow, a shade, something less even than a ghost?

_"That is behind us now,"_ her voice softened.

"That will never be behind me!" Edmund grabbed the anger that so far had been his only weapon to affect her.

_"I forgive you." _Jadis' voice was again quiet and smug.

Edmund broke out in near hysterical laughter.

"You! Forgive me!"

All around, his companions came to a halt. They watched, some with pity, others with sorrow, and a few with confusion as he stopped his horse, fearful of losing his seat with how hard he was laughing.

_2_

"You're making this harder than it should be, Susan."

Fiz was beginning to sound as frustrated as Susan felt.

"Easy for you, but up to several days ago, I lived my life in a single body, not this multiplicity you are so comfortable with."

Susan drew her face back into the tree and shook loose some more leaves for the next attempt at what Fiz had called manifesting. She had always thought of it as 'ghosting', the ability that dryads had to project a non-physical vision of themselves for communication.

Fiz unfolded himself and stood alongside her trunk. In spite of her frustration, she felt a surge of happiness, knowing that he was the one there teaching her.

How had she ever considered him childlike? His joie de vivre, she had learned, was a mask carefully woven to disguise the years of brutal pain and loss suffered under Jadis' rule. His reluctance to become close revealed the haunted part of his soul. She vowed to herself that she was going to find out who it was that Fiz mourned for and spend the rest of her life honoring them for the love they taught him to share. First though, she had to heal the wound they left behind.

He rapped her trunk lightly.

"I have an idea. Move over." With little warning, he merged himself into her tree.

'Hi,' he thought at her.

'Hi, yourself. Give a girl a little more warning next time,' Susan thought back. 'So, what is your plan?'

'We're going to merge our thoughts and do it together. I'll guide, you execute.' She could feel the grin he projected. 'Ready?'

Susan paused, steeling herself for the next attempt. She flushed her mind of all but the instructions Fiz had been drilling her in all morning.

'I suppose so.'

'Leaves,' he thought.

Susan's limbs shivered, shedding even more leaves to mingle with those already drifting beneath her branches or lying on the ground.

'Stir them.'

She concentrated on the light breeze that swept through the glade. Carefully she guided it towards her tree making it turn beneath her branches. The leaves danced and floated into a swirling column.

'Shape them.'

Susan focused her attention on the vortex, compressing and shaping it until the leaves spun around her own likeness. This was as far as she had been able to get. She felt an itching sensation near the back of her scalp.

'Keep concentrating.'

Fiz's voice sounded even closer than usual. She realized that the itching meant he had merged himself with her for the next step.

'Take a piece of yourself and place it in the likeness. The leaves are part of you, they are your conduit.'

Carefully, she thought about being in the vortex, seeing the world from it's perspective, while also being in the tree. She could feel Fiz shaping the direction of her thoughts, guiding them into the proper shape. She felt lightheaded.

'Open you eyes,' Fiz thought.

She opened them to find herself outside the tree, leaves sweeping past her vision. She looked around and saw the trunk.

'Switch your focus.'

Susan blinked, and she was inside the tree looking at the swirling avatar.

'And back.'

She blinked again, then simultaneously watched and felt Fiz step out of her tree.

"Not bad," he said. "Can you talk?"

The sound of his voice entering her ears felt odd.

"Let's see. Can you hear me?" Her voice had a strange echo that made it sound hollow.

Fiz laughed. "Nice, ethereal tone you have there."

"When did you start using such big words?" she asked.

He walked up and placed a hand against the swirling column. She could feel the leaves as they bounced against his hand, and the wind as it parted to pass around him.

"Guess," he grinned.

"I wonder?" She leaned the avatar forward and reached out to kiss him. The sensation was weird. She was definitely kissing him, but it felt insubstantial and incomplete.

"Pardon me. Can you tell me where I might find..." A deep voice came from beyond Fiz's shoulder.

Susan opened her eyes.

"Orieus!" she yelped with an ethereal squeak, and the avatar completely dissipated.

Fiz stumbled through where it had been as a moment later, Susan shot from the trunk and threw herself into the large centaur's arms.

"Orieus!" she yelled with joy. "You got in! Is the army with you? Do you like my tree? What word of my family? Have you caught the hags yet? Is all well at Cair Paravel?" She turned a dreamy gaze Fiz's way while still hovering four feet off the ground in the centaur's embrace.

Orieus smiled broadly at her enthusiastic greeting and gave Fiz a wary glance.

"This is Fisrahd. My instructor in all things dryad," Susan giggled giddily.

Though she was reluctant to release his neck, Orieus gently lowered her back to the ground. She continued to cling to his side, fearful that he was an apparition that would disappear if she let go.

"It is an honor to meet you," Orieus nodded his head to the dryad. "The Naiad Arisumae speaks very well of you."

Fiz bowed in return, wearing a lopsided grin on his face and worried look in his eye.

After an appraising look at the two dryads, Orieus turned his attention back to Susan.

"Your Majesty." The centaur gave a short bow. "I have entered to parley with the guardians of this glade. It is my hope that I can convince them to drop their defenses allowing the rest of us to enter. We may then be able to do what is necessary to return you to your proper form."

"But you are here? Surely the defenses are down." Susan felt confused by the mixed information.

"The protective spell is an ancient and powerful one. It can be circumvented in a very limited fashion, but for our purposes, it must be lifted entirely," Orieus explained.

"Good luck negotiating with that hard headed hardwood," Susan huffed. "I very much doubt you're going to have any better luck than we did." Susan waved to include Fiz in the 'we'.

"Ah, my Queen, but I have one advantage." Orieus grinned at down at her. "I came from outside the shield."

Susan smiled at the General. Having learned to trust his judgment in more than just battle, she chose not to question him on the specifics of that advantage. It would, she knew, be revealed at its proper time.

"If we're going to have formal negotiations, I'd better dress the part." Susan reached up to the tree branch and changed her light shift into a red, flowing, formal gown. "You don't, by chance, have my crown with you?"

"No, your highness. It is at the camp, as are your bow and horn. I did not wish to risk damaging or losing them if I failed to get through the shield." He replied.

"I guess it can't be helped." She reached up again to the branch. After thinking hard for a moment, a thin gold circlet appeared about her forehead. "How's that?"

"Very attractive, my lady," the centaur replied.

"Fiz?" Susan stared at him.

"Huh?" She could see the confusion and worry mixed on his face as he tried to figure out what he hadn't paid attention to.

"How do I look?" She stepped into a patch of sunlight streaming through her tree's branches and did a slow pirouet.

"Nice, very nice," he said without any energy.

Half expecting to have heard him say 'frumpy', Susan's mind went 'click'.

She walked over to Fiz. Putting an arm around his shoulders, she turned him to face the centaur. Curious, but not sure what was going on, he let himself be guided by her.

"General," she said. "What is our relationship?"

"You are my Queen. I am your humble and loyal servant," Orieus replied.

Smiling, she stood with a regal bearing. Reaching across, she grabbed Fiz's left hand with her right.

Not sure what was going on, and very obviously wrapped up in his own worries about this large, handsome centaur who had just arrived in the glade, he stood beside her, only halfway paying attention.

In the formal tone she used at court in Cair Paravel, Susan began speaking. "Orieus, as Queen of Narnia and Mistress of my own affairs, with you as my formal witness, I hearby agree to accept courtship by the honorable Fisrahd Ashe."

Fiz looked up, startled.

"My Lady," Orieus acknowledged. "Ser Ashe. Congratulations."

She leaned over and kissed Rahd full on the lips. "Well Rahd?"

"Yes?" His eyes were unfocused and his response a bit vacant, with a slight smile on his face.

"Get changed. Formal best for negotiations." Susan beamed. "It looks like your payback for teaching me to be a dryad is I get to teach you statecraft."

_3_

_"Son of Adam?" _

Jadis' worried tone piqued Edmund's interest, but once again, he tried to ignore her. Choosing instead to concentrate on the flies buzzing around the bear that was pacing him.

_"Edmund?" _Her quiet voice quavered in his head.

"What now?" His exasperation at her constant need to talk broke through in his outburst.

Edmund slumped in his saddle and glanced around at the members of his party. His hard-won reputation for patience and reasoned thinking potentially stood in great danger if he could not bring this voice under control.

The talking bear ambling alongside of him looked up. The King merely pointed at his head and rolled his eyes.

The bear snorted and moved away so Edmund could battle the White Witch in his head with some privacy.

_"Is what you've shown me true?"_ Her whisper was so quiet he had to concentrate to hear it. _"I am dead?"_

Edmund smiled. "You are. I watched Aslan finish you."

_"I...I'm all that's left of me?" _Edmund felt the catch in her voice.

"And Narnia is far better off for it." He couldn't help twisting the knife a bit.

_"You're going to kill me again, aren't you?"_ He swore he heard a sob.

"At the first available opportunity," he sneered.

_"Edmund. I don't want to die," _her voice trembled.

Edmund wanted to smile, but the fear in her voice made him feel sick to his stomach.

_4_

A warm, moist breeze blew across Lucy's forehead, rousing her to wakefulness. Burning pain in her right shoulder confused her momentarily. She started shifting around to relieve the pain.

"Lay still, dear one," a deep, mellifluous voice spoke.

A soft, heavy weight pressed down on her left shoulder. At the pressure, Lucy opened her eyes.

"Aslan!" Her eyes shot open and she inhaled sharply.

Seated alongside her cot, one paw pressed against her good shoulder was the Great Lion. A large tear broke loose and rolled down his furry cheek as pain etched itself across his expressive visage.

In a quiet and mournful tone that she had only heard him use once before, he spoke. "Lucy, I bear your pain. Please be still."

Only then did she notice how little her injuries hurt.

"I...I will try." She stammered.

A pained smile came over Aslan's face and concern for her laced every line. Content in the knowledge that he was there, Lucy closed her eyes.

A loud moan came from someone out of sight behind the lion.

Lucy's eyes shot open. "How badly are others injured?" She asked him.

"None as bad as you, my child. The horse with your cordial has been sent for." He answered.

She looked at him sternly. "You're leaving something unsaid."

"The others are refusing treatment until you have been healed," Aslan whispered to her.

"They're what!" Outrage washed the last fuzziness away from her mind.

Aslan nodded.

"I will not accept that!" She reached out with her good arm and grabbed his shoulder, under the mane. "Will you help me."

Aslan smiled at her. "Daughter, I would be honored."

With his assistance, Lucy stood. Pain twinged through her leg. Looking down, she saw that the crossbow bolt was still there. She looked over as The Great Lion staggered. She reached out and grabbed him.

"I'll be all right," he said.

Together they went to each of the injured. Holding their hands in hers, Lucy spoke of their families, their travels, or their part in the battle. She insisted that they accept treatment for their injuries. Several times she felt twinges that the Cat absorbed. On the way back to her cot, he stumbled and for a moment, the pain fully returned to her. She froze on the spot and held completely still as Aslan recovered and lifted her pain back to himself.

"Aslan, thank you," she said on returning to her bed. "Assisting me has drained you. Return my pain so you may rest."

"Now that you are still, your pain is not so much to bear." He paused a moment. "It is indeed a noble thing you have done today. Now close your eyes and sleep. When next you awaken, you will have been healed. I promise."

_5_

Though it was still early, Edmund lay on the cot in his tent. He could hear the other members of his party milling about the camp. Someone was fixing dinner; he could smell the mixed scents of wood smoke and stew. The west wall of the tent glowed with crimson light of the setting sun.

Meertz was moving. He could sense that she was no longer at the old castle of her former mistress. She was now further up in the mountains. He concentrated and could envision a cave.

_"What are you looking at, dear one?"_ Jadis wormed her way back into his thoughts.

"Your former minion is moving. But she can't hide from me," he replied

_"We really don't have to be enemy's, Edmund." _Her voice was quiet and syrupy.

"Seeing as how you are already dead. I clearly have the upper hand."

He smiled; after the pain she had caused others, he took some satisfaction in reminding her of her status.

_"I could help you,"_ she whispered.

"How?" Edmund sat up on the bed. "You're not even real!"

_"What is real, Son of Adam? I know all that Jadis knew prior to being bottled. Surely that is worth something to you?"_

"What is old and out of date knowledge going to be good for?" Edmund snapped.

_"Don't try to play coy with me! I'm in your mind and can see every machination in here. You know very well the value of what I can offer you." _Her voice took on the stern tones he remembered in his nightmares.

"Very well then, state your proposal." Edmund fell back on the bed. He felt a real, physical headache coming on.

_"We both know I'm not strong enough to dominate you. If I can prove myself useful to you, you won't try to remove me from your mind."_ Her voice sounded dejected, as if bartering for her continued existence were the last thing she wanted to do.

"If we capture Meertz, retrieve the vial of your blood, and fully restore Susan, then I might consider your suggestion," he countered.

_"Edmund! All or nothing. I will give you nothing for free, either we have a deal, or I WILL drive you mad to ensure my survival." _Edmund recognized her blackmail card almost before she threw it.

"Driving me mad will only ensure your destruction all the quicker."

_"But what about your dear dear sister Susan. Two weeks! Two weeks and she is a Willow Tree for the rest – of – her – life." _She paused after each of the last four words, letting the concept sink in.

Edmund sat and weighed the options for several minutes. Wisely, Jadis kept her opinions of his thoughts to herself.

Finally, he responded. "Okay, for Susan, you have a deal."

_"Dear one, I promise, you won't regret this."_

"Don't even... I already regret this more than you will ever divine. All I want to know is how we're going to get what we need to get Susan back."

Edmund grabbed a handkerchief and soaked it in the pitcher of water on the side table. Wringing it out, he folded it and placed the cool damp cloth against his forehead. In spite of his efforts, the headache was getting stronger.

"What do you suggest?" he asked with a resigned sigh.

_"Even knowing where she is, you're never going to catch Meertz and recover my vial by charging in at the head of an army. She's a wheedling coward. She'll be gone and all you'll have are a bunch of dead Narnians and hags to show for it."_

"Fine, you've torn down my ideas, let's hear your plan." The headache was making him snappish.

_"You must go in alone."_


	17. Ups and Downs

**A/N:** Once more, thank you for reading! I think I might be getting better at this, as this time, when Straitjackit hit me with that bat named 'Descriptive', it didn't leave a bruise. (I don't think she's softening up to me...) One reward for your patience is that it seems I have settled on a new plateau length for my chapters, around 3200 words. And now, back to the show.

**Ups and Downs**

_1_

Peter's first thoughts were of how pleasant it was to wake up on something soft and warm. Sharp clanging noises penetrated his somnolence.

"Edmund! Turn off that bloody alarm clock!" he yelled into his pillow.

'Stupid git will sleep through anything.' Slowly, other fuzzy thoughts began to register in his brain. 'Even Susan blowing that horn Father Christmas gave her.'

'Horn? Father Christmas?'

Still not opening his eyes, he moved his arms to fluff the pillow. 'Why does my pillow have hard edges? Come to think of, why did it echo like the great hall when I yelled?'

Cold dampness seeped into his consciousness, adding to his confusion.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears. A rhythmic thumping rattled through his bones.

"Giants!" Peter shot instantly and fully awake.

The thumping was coming from his right, getting closer and more violent.

As comfortable as his current position was, he came to the realization that he should move, and move quickly. Thrusting his hands into the mud, he launched himself away from the oncoming vibrations.

He immediately regretted flipping open his mud-caked helmet. Filling his vision was an enraged giant, its torso pin-cushioned with at least a dozen arrows. Each of the yard long shafts looked shorter than the cactus quills he'd encountered south of Archenland.

Still on his knees, he threw his body sideways as the huge opponent who'd unhorsed him slammed its massive club into the muck Peter had occupied moments before.

"Uhngh?" The giant's bellow became confused as the sucking mud of the wet Ettinsmoor refused to relinquish its grip on the club.

A golden flash in the watery light drew Peter's attention. Off to his right, beyond the Giant, a narrow shaft of sunlight glinted and sparkled as Rhindon, like the Sword of Legend, stood above the mud and flattened grasses.

Half running, half scrambling, Peter dove for his weapon.

Giving up on its buried club, the mammoth being swung its massive fists.

Once again Peter launched himself sideways to avoid the blow. Great gouts of mud rained down on him as the great, clubbed hands slammed into the moor where he would have been standing.

Having still not regained his feet, the High King crabbed backwards to get out of the giant's reach. From his ground level position, Peter marveled at his opponent's size. Mounted on horseback, they had not seemed nearly so imposing.

Still prone and unarmed, and now covered in mud, head to toe, front and back, Peter continued to dodge the giant's attacks.

"I fear we are too late. See, he has already turned gray," a mournful voice sounded from beyond the giant.

"How'd you get there!" the giant roared, swinging around to face the oncoming marsh-wiggle.

Peter recalled the earlier skirmish, before he'd set the entire army in motion. With the mud and grasses clinging to him, he now blended into the Ettinsmoor better than any of the marsh-wiggles accompanying him. Maybe, if he moved slowly, he could get back to his sword without the giant seeing him.

Peter shook loose his gauntlets and scrapped away some of the mud that was blinding him. He could hear other wiggles joining the battle with his giant. As he tried to stand, he could feel the grinding of the mud in the joints of his armor.

Keeping a wary eye on the nearby fight, Peter took a moment to look around the battlefield. The battle seemed to be winding down. Several giants, and a few marsh-wiggles lay unmoving on the fields. Most of the remaining enemy forces were in retreat.

"Aahhrr!" The nearby giant bellowed as a wave of arrows sprouted from it's shoulders. Having had enough, it too turned and joined the general retreat.

Peter staggered stiffly toward Rhindon. The cloud movement and the sun's progress across the sky had coincided, and the golden shaft of light was still shining down on the sword. As he approached, his eyes traced the shadow.

He froze.

There, lying exactly in the shadow of where the grip, blade and guard came together, was the brush.

"Like a treasure map!" he whispered.

Ignoring his sword, Peter scooped the brush off the ground and started laughing.

At the top of his voice he shouted, "X marks the spot!"

"Battle-madness," the marsh-wiggle who'd thought he was dead said.

"Our poor brothers to the south." One of his companions moaned. "How do they tolerate such leadership?"

A third wiggle shook it's wet, stringy locks slowly, with great pity, it answered the second. "Some just aren't fated to have our pleasant, happy existence."

Dancing around the field, his prize in hand, Peter could only smile at the marsh-wiggle comments.

_2_

In a small copse along the perimeter of the clearing Susan, Fiz and Orieus sat at a great round wooden table opposite the proud, ancient leader of the grove. The space had the feel of a living temple. At the head, stood the Dryad's massive, gnarled oak tree. Down either side grew tall, simple trees of the many types that grew around the clearing, each raising its limbs to create the vaulting, majestic space. Behind them, a narrow opening gave access into the clearing.

"You must understand my position, General. Whether or not _your_ Queen is a victim is moot. Her transformation is clearly the work of the darkest kinds of magic. I have my people's safety to consider." The old oak dryad leaned back, his expression dark and serious. Every fiber of his being projected the confidence and power of a king holding council in his own castle.

Susan leaned to Fiz's ear. "Like I'm not his Queen as well."

"Shh. Remember, he doesn't believe the prophecy has been fulfilled," he whispered back.

She looked over and grinned as Fiz pulled again at the high collar of his tunic.

"It would be more comfortable if you stopped pulling on it." She reached out and grasped his hand, pulling it away from his collar. "You look handsome."

Orieus, ignoring the whispered repartee beside him, continued with his negotiations.

"It was indeed dark magic that afflicted my Queen." Orieus paused. "As sworn protector of the royal family, it shames me to admit my failure to detect and prevent this attack. If I am not successful in convincing you to let our people in, then at the next full moon, her transformation becomes permanent, and all hope of lifting the stain on my honor is lost."

"You speak of the ability to reverse this spell. Your Queen sits alongside you. Take her and work your magics where you will." Waving his hand dismissively, he looked up at the light playing among the leaves that roofed the council glade.

"Unfortunately, it is not possible to remove her tree to a different location, which means that to affect her restoration, we must be allowed access to your clearing." Holding up a hand, he paused the Oak's reply. "I truly do understand your desire to protect the occupants of this glade. Did I not, I could never have walked through your shield."

The grizzled old tree spirit pulled thoughtfully at his long gray-green beard. "Your presence here speaks powerfully of your own personal intentions, but I must have assurances for the safety of the glade."

It was now the centaur's turn to sit thoughtfully for a moment. "For those assurances to carry the weight you require, I must refer you to my superior."

The oak dryad nodded slowly. "As you had little difficulty gaining access to this glade, I see no problems with you fetching them here to join our discussion." He leaned back and crossed his arms, a slight smile curling his lips.

Orieus glanced at the two young dryads on his left and grinned. "You misunderstand me, good sir. The superior of whom I speak is present here with us."

He turned and bowed to Susan.

"Milady."

Susan, greatly impressed with the smooth way he had maneuvered her into the conversation, released Fiz's hand and gave the General a small smile. With a regal nod she turned to face the wizened old spirit. No longer a supplicant for favor, she stood before him, every muscle and movement proclaiming her to be a Sovereign Queen of Narnia.

"In the name of my elder brother Peter, High King, Lord of Cair Paravel; With the wisdom of my younger brother King Edmund, guardian of the Western Marches; By the spirit of my sister, Queen Lucy, who is friend to all Narnians; Through my own authority as Susan, a rightful Queen of Narnia and in the name of Aslan, who guides us all, I grant this glade and all who dwell within it the full and complete protection of the realm. From this day until the sun no longer rises in the eastern sky."

At that moment a low roar of wind rushed through the surrounding woods, slowly building in noise until it broke over the tops of the pines. Loose, dry leaves from miles around flowed into the clearing. Twisting and swirling in their golden hues, they burst through the entryway and formed into the image of a lion which nodded to both Susan and the Oak Dryad before sweeping away, restoring the clearing to its summer green finery.

"My Lady." Stunned at the apparition, the elderly spirit bowed to her. "The Great Lion himself vouchsafes your word."

He stood, ramrod straight and looked from her to Orieus. "I had not dared to believe the rumors that the prophecy had been fulfilled, even when that young scamp shared your identity with the council. Queen Susan, you shall have every assistance from the residents of this glade."

Several panicked dryads ran into the copse. The Oak rose and spoke quietly with them, calming their fears and sharing the joy of Aslan's brief appearance. For the first time since her arrival here, Susan saw the caring and kindness with which he held his people together. A burden that she herself knew the weight of firsthand.

Recognizing their commonalities as he returned to his place at the table, Susan forgave his stubbornness. "Your defense of all who reside in your charge, myself included, is honored among the highest of the traditions of our land. I recognize that it would have been unwise to lower your defenses without the proper assurances of who was at your gate. You have my thanks for the service you have rendered." She returned his earlier bow.

"Your General and I have much yet to discuss regarding the disposition and provisioning of his forces before I can drop the defenses. In the meantime, if there is somewhere you would rather be." He looked meaningfully at Fiz, still fidgeting in the formal tunic and leggings she'd made him wear.

"He is right, My Queen. I can handle the rest with relative ease." Orieus added.

"Very well then." She looked over at Fiz, who offered her his arm. "I will leave it in your hands, General. We will be by my Willow if needed."

Fiz and she bowed to the Oak and the Centaur then walked back to her tree.

As they reached the entryway, the Oak called out once more. "Fisrahd, you have grown more in the last two weeks than you have in the past four years. Your parents would be proud. I am."

"Th.. Thank you sir." Fiz stammered out a reply, then guided Susan out the door.

Before she could ask any questions, Fiz deftly changed the subject.

"I hope you know how to dance."

"Dance?" She asked.

Susan glanced over to find Fiz's eyebrows twitching with suppressed laughter. "Mark my words, there will be a welcoming banquet tonight and we will be lucky if any of us see any sleep before sunup."

_3_

Cervid clutched at the stitch in his side. Much as he loved exercising the patience, concealment and slow movements of the woodcraft that made him such a good scout, the act of scouting was taking a toll on his battle-fitness. In the gloomy twilight of the camp, he took several deep breaths, composed himself, then entered the tent.

"General Kine. The dryads have dropped their shield. Elements of the Narnian army are moving into the clearing."

The minotaur leader slammed his tankard of ale down, splashing the drink out and onto the table. His tongue slid out and made a leisurely pass around his mouth, removing the foam from his lips and nose.

"Captain." Kine turned to the third minotaur in the tent. "Now I really am glad of your offer to spend extra time here with your troops! Instead of reporting your readiness to that talentless hag, we can bear news of our own success!"

Handing a mug of ale to Cervid, the General raised his own. "To the ascendancy of the Minotaur Nation!"

"Hrrooaahh!" Cervid and the Captain replied before tilting back their drinks.

Kine tossed his mug aside and waved to the map in front of him. "Scout Cervid. What are the dispositions of the forces arrayed against us?"

"They move only a small portion of their forces into the clearing, Sir." Cervid reached out and moved markers into the proper positions on the map table. "The majority of their forces are being maintained on the established perimeter. Their orders are now to defend the perimeter from outside penetration, but there is yet much confusion as they realign their forces."

Kine made a soft lowing sound as he studied the map in the light of Cervid's report. "Captain, your plan is a good one, but tonight will be our only opportunity to execute it."

"Yes sir," the minotaur Captain saluted. "I will have the support unit packed and on the trail within the hour. The attack groups will move out to their jump points at the same time. Our best time to attack should be an hour before dawn."

"I understand that Scout Cervid here leads the element tasked with our prime objective?" Kine gave the young minotaur an appraising glance.

"His service has earned him that honor, Sir," the other officer replied.

Turning to Cervid, General Kine clasped his upper arm, just below the leather shoulder armor. "Young warrior, I too once served as a scout. Have I permission to accompany your element on tonight's maneuver?"

Cervid braced to attention. Many briefed the Commanding General, but to have him request to follow your lead into battle was the kind of notice that could greatly accelerate one's own climb through the ranks. "General Kine, sir. It would be my pleasure and of great honor to the taur of my unit."

"Very well, I will join you at assembly."

_4_

The half moon had long since crested and was sliding closer to the western horizon, and still the fauns played their music.

Such music.

Having not yet had the chance to attend a summer's dance, in spite of the several invitations that Tumnus and Lucy had issued, Susan had not expected the variety of instruments. Pipes of many types, from large, deep and melodious, to small and shrill. Violins, but not played in the staid and formal manner of the symphonies and quartets she'd grown up with. These were played with the short, sharp motions her music teacher at school had referred to as 'fiddling' rather than seriously playing. There was a large bass that the faun only occasionally stroked with a bow, choosing instead to pluck the strings like a harp. Drums of many sizes and timbres rattled a continuous undercurrent of rhythm. It was such a joyous and raucous noise that she could not help but move and want to join in the dancing.

Dryads, fauns, and even some centaur bobbed, twirled and spun in the firelight. Talking beasts cavorted around the periphery, carefully staying out from underfoot of the larger and the more, or less, graceful creatures. The movement was mesmerizing. As the flicking light, the smoke, the music and the movement all twined together, Susan looked up to find the stars also were dancing.

Laughing, Fiz led her into the weaving pattern, showing her the steps as they stumbled and swirled among the more accomplished participants. After several miscues and not a few collisions, a group of female dryads separated her from Fiz and took it upon themselves to teach her the proper footwork and movement pattern. At that moment she realized, for the first time, the other dryads were accepting her as one of their own.

She smiled at their laughter when Fiz's voice broke over the background. "I promise, I won't step on any more toes, can I please have her back?"

"When we're finished teaching her!" A dogwood, who looked younger than Lucy, rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"What's an hour of instruction from a long night of dancing, Rahd?" She smiled back at him.

In spite of feeling a little guilty for giving them the ammunition, she smiled, conspiratorially with the others at Fiz's embarrassed retreat to a chorus of 'Rahds' from the female dryads.

As Fiz had indicated, the party went all night. It would be dawn soon, and in the waning moonlight, under the bright stars, Susan clung to Fiz and they swayed together as a faun and dryad sang a lovely ballad about the sons of Frank and their dryad wives.

The fauns were swinging into another up-tempo set when a scream and clash of steel sounded from the edge of the wood. The heavy thunder of hooves crashing in the glade and dark, bulky figures charging were Susan's only impressions.

"Minotaurs! To Arms! To Arms!" a voice cried from the middle of the fight.

Fiz grabbed her arm and pulled her into the woods. "My tree is closer! This way, quickly."

Susan tried to pull Fiz toward her tree, where she had earlier placed her bow and horn on an upper branch. "No! I should stand and fight. I promised the Oak."

He spun her to face him. "Susan! They aren't attacking dryads, they're here for you! Now come on!" The fear in his eyes reminded her of the look on Peter's face after the Battle of Beruna, before they knew if Lucy's cordial would save Edmund.

Fiz took off running again, pulling her among the trees, limbs that they normally dodged gracefully dragged at their clothing. For the first time as a dryad, she could feel scratches on her skin from the undergrowth.

"We're here. Quick, inside." He positioned himself between her and the fight.

Susan reached out to enter his tree, sensing something strange, she turned to face in the direction of her own tree. In the flickering firelight, she saw a group of minotaurs run under her willow with long knives drawn.

The 'No!' she yelled an instant before their blades make contact became a piercing shriek as limbs were savagely separated from her tree.


	18. Shadows

**A/N:** Hello, and thanks again to all my loyal readers! Please remember your reviews are what makes each of us here better writers! With over 50 hits on each chapter as it appears, I would dearly love to hear what each and every one of you think! Thanks again to my beta, Straitjackit, her insightful questions added over 1200 words to this chapter!

**Shadows**

_1_

In the pre-dawn darkness, Cervid crept carefully through the low foliage. None of his scouts, not even the General, had made any noise on the approach. Not surprisingly, the incantation that shielded a taur of the diversionary group chose that moment to break down. Through his own connection to the magic he felt the alarm ripple outward from the trees near that soldier.

Like the taur of his unit, he immediately felt out the integrity of his own shield. He could hear muffled whispers as several of the scouts mumbled strengthening spells to reinforce their invisibility. It was imperative that their party remain unseen as long as possible.

Early, but not disastrously so, his Captain lead the main body of Minotaur in the initial attack, forcing the Narnians and Dryads away from the Willow. Anxiously, he waited for just the right moment. The taur of his unit knew that he was to break cover first.

He could feel the eyes of the General, appraising his decision making.

Cervid blinked to clear that particular thought from his head.

'I must make the right decision, not just the decision he will think is right.'

On the far side of the clearing, the Narnians were collapsing back in a perimeter around the dryads and the musicians who had not been able to reach their weapons.

With amazing speed and silence for his size, Cervid sprang from the undergrowth, his squad a half step behind him. Drawing curved hunting blades in lieu of the massive broadswords each carried, the taur made a bee-line for the willow tree at the center of the clearing. The carefully sharpened edges of their long knives glinted in the firelight as they ran. In just a few steps his taur and General Kine were under the skirts of the tree.

Grabbing fists full of willow fronds, each of the five minotaur drew back and in a single movement, sliced the branches free from the tree.

A piercing scream came from the far side of the ongoing battle.

Cervid spun in the direction of a startled bleat from one of the taur as a rain of arrows fell around him. A moment later an empty quiver bounced off of the unfortunate one's head.

Cervid heard the General chuckle and, tracing his eyes, looked up in the firelight to see an unstrung bow dangling from an upper branch.

"Someone picked a very inefficient place to store their weapons." The General said to the taur who'd been hit.

The General's mirth spread to the rest of the scouts.

Turning back to his responsibility, Cervid made a quick check to see that each of the taur held the requisite branches. Seeing that the first objective of his mission was accomplished, he leaned his head back and unleashed a Minotaur battle cry.

After sending the signal, Cervid leapt the stream and lead his squad northward from the clearing. His Captain and the other minotaur of the unit disengaged from the Narnians and followed close behind.

_2_

Stiffness in her lower back and shoulders told Lucy she had been asleep far too long. While it was never as firm as her bed at Cair Paravel, she could feel the canvas sagging against the rails and legs. The cot had either not been tensioned properly or its bindings had come loose while she slept. The unfamiliar way it supported left her muscles feeling sore.

As she woke further, she noticed that her mouth was dry, sour and had a pasty feel to it. Reaching up, she rubbed the rough sleep-sand from her eyes. Opening them, she saw a pitcher of water and cup on the table by her bed. Sitting up, she spilled some of the water onto the soft cloth folded there and washed her face, letting the feel of the cloth and cool water scrub away the sleep.

Filling the cup, she took several swallows for her dry throat. It was as she was refilling the mug, that she realized that her wounds no longer hurt.

A quick check under her gown confirmed that not only were the crossbow bolts gone, but the injuries they had inflicted were healed. She hiked up the hem and looked at the slight scar on her thigh where the bolt had been. Running her fingers lightly over it she could feel the slight ridge. Peeling the neckline back, Lucy did the same with the wound on her shoulder. She had seen her cordial heal others, but this was the first time it had been used on her. She marveled for a time at the power of that small, jeweled jar; that it could undo such damage as she had received almost as quickly as it was incurred.

Opening a tin on the table, she dropped a pinch of dried and minced mint leaves into the cup. Rinsing the swig of water around her mouth, she walked to the flap of the tent. Taking a surreptitious look around and finding no one watching, she spat the minty water on the ground beside the tent.

"Your Majesty."

Lucy jumped, embarrassed at being caught in such an unladylike act.

The faun smiled ecstatically as he continued. "It is good to see you up and well! Aslan tasked me to see if you were yet awake. I will go report so to him."

Lucy plucked at the sides of the sleeping gown she was wearing. "Can you ask him to give me a few minutes to prepare myself?"

"Aye Milady." The faun bowed deeply. "Again, it is good to see you whole."

She ducked back into the tent thinking about the young faun. The size of his smile, and the happy relief in his eyes, said more to her about how serious her wounds had been than even Aslan's presence had. She realized that they had been preparing themselves for the worst possible outcome.

Opening her trunk, she pulled out a comfortable traveling tunic and breeches. The clothing, well worn but rugged, had been a Christmas gift from Susan. She smiled, remembering sitting around the family parlor waiting for Father Christmas' arrival.

When she had finished dressing, she walked over to her no-longer-new armor, laid out on a table. The armorer had deftly patched the damage to the right shoulder and left leg. She was running her hand over the repaired shoulder when the Great Cat's voice floated through the canvas.

"Lucy?"

"Aslan. Come in." Her voice dull, Lucy continued to stare at the armor.

"What is it, little one?" The voice drew out a near forgotten memory.

_"Mine!" She chased after the thief who'd taken her dolly._

_Edmund danced around the yard, staying just out of her reach. They ran behind Susan who was using the hose to water flowers. Edmund spun across the black rubber line and bumped into Peter who looked at him crossly. Stopping, with a look that said his f__un had been spoiled, he turned and held her dolly out._

_Squealing, she ran to recover her toy. _

_Susan didn't see her running as she pulled the hose to the next flowerbed. She caught her foot under the hose and sprawled face first into the grass._

_Her knees and elbows stung from the scrapes, and her chin was sore, but before she could start wailing, great strong arms picked her up and held her close._

"I always believed that if the cause was just, and I was in your service, I couldn't be hurt." She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes. "How can I continue to be brave when I almost died?"

Aslan walked over and sat down beside her. He too stared at the patched armor. After several moments of silence, he answered her with a question. "Do you not believe that if you were to fall while in my service, we would be together forever?"

Lucy looked into the Lion's solemn eyes, finding the deeper truth behind his question. "I never understood that before. To die is just a change from this life to another?"

Aslan's face slowly transformed into a sad smile.

"You have learned a very difficult lesson. And with that lesson, you have lost a measure of your innocence. I mourn its passing."

She turned away from her armor. "I still don't know how I could ever make myself walk into another fight."

His warm breath briefly condensed on the cool leather. He rubbed it with one of his paws. Where he polished it, the armor reflected the bright color of the tent. Lucy looked into the reflection, seeing not a Queen, but a scared young girl.

"Bravery, my child, is not merely standing in a battle. Bravery is taking the difficult path because it is right. Do you remember what the bravest thing you did was?"

"It's all such a blur," Lucy answered.

"When you heard that the others were refusing treatment, in spite of your own injuries, you were ready to go to them without my assistance." He stood and turned to face her. "If you never stand in another battle, you must still be brave, my young Queen, for it is not in your nature to be otherwise."

She thought back to that moment, remembering the pain, but also remembering her anger that the other injured would put her welfare above their own. She stood a little straighter.

Lucy looked again at her reflection in the polished armor. It still didn't look like the reflection of a brave queen, but it wasn't that of a frightened child any longer either.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around the Lion's great neck.

"Thank you, Aslan."

"Not all injuries can be repaired with potions and cordials, but I would say this one's healing is well begun. Now, Dear One, we must have a talk about this Guardian you are to face."

_3_

Tears streamed down Susan's face as she moved from limb to limb healing the breaks. It felt as if someone had pulled her skin off and then threw her in a pool of alcohol. The pain came from so many places that she couldn't localize it. She was working by sight alone until she could bring the sensations under control.

Several of the young dryads who had danced with her earlier in the evening helped. Also working by sight, each marked their progress with sprigs of small flowers. As the pain slowly faded, she looked over to see Fiz still standing on the north side of her tree, staring off into the distance; a position he'd taken shortly after the attack.

Since then, his face had settled into a cold, hard mask. On the one occasion she'd looked into his eyes, she saw fierce anger burning there. With the healing finished, she thanked the others and walked over to Fiz. She was reaching out to comfort him as Orieus trotted up in the pre-dawn light.

He stooped by her trunk and began to collect her arrows and return them to the quiver. "Queen Susan, are you harmed?"

Susan took the quiver from him as he reared up and grabbed her bow off of its limb.

"Nothing that cannot be repaired. The vandals hacked loose some of my tree's limbs."

"They WHAT!" The centaur staggered at the news.

Susan recoiled at the vehemence of his reaction.

_4_

He could hear Jaevyan repeating her warning. _"__If the Hagarathan gather so much as one leaf from her tree, they will be able to summon her spirit to wherever they choose. And we would have no hope of stopping them." _Twice he had failed to protect his charge; first in not detecting the original threat, and now allowing Minotaurs to win through and claim limbs from Susan's tree. He was furious with himself. A guard should have been posted to her tree as soon as they'd arrived.

Eye's wide, Susan picked up on his fear and her body began to tremble. "What is it, Orieus?"

Fiz, his jaws stiff and his tone flat, answered her. "By destroying the living branches of a Dryad's tree, the spirit is summoned helplessly to the location of that destruction. The Hagarathan use it to entrap dryads as ingredients for their potions."

He looked over at Orieus. "I am tracking them, they are moving north and slightly east. There will be no further attacks here, they have what they came for."

"Can you tell me where?" Orieus responded, reaching for his sword. He looked at the young dryad with a new respect. Alone, of all the creatures in the glade, Fiz had recognized what had occurred and had taken action that might, if all went well, save the situation.

"I can set you a guide. There are at least thirty of them. You would do well to pursue in force. Gather your troops quickly, General, as they are almost out of my reach."

Orieus summoned his fastest warriors to Susan's Willow.

"The Minotaur have stolen branches from our Queen's tree. We must catch them and recover those branches before they reach their masters. They have at least an hour's start on us." He paused and looked over to Fiz.

"Susan, almost all of my energy is being used to track the minotaur, can you lend me some of your strength?" Fiz reached out and grasped her hand.

After a moments concentration, a small swirl of leaves formed and hovered alongside of Orieus.

Fiz looked up at the Centaur. "This will guide you to the furthest point I am able to track them, however, once it dissipates, you will be on your own." Still grasping Susan's hand, he reached up with his free one and took the Centaur's offered arm. "Go, I will see to Susan's continued safety here in the glade."

Warrior to warrior, Orieus nodded to the young Dryad. "Ser Ashe, there are very few I trust with that duty. You have the heart of the Lion, may his blessing be with you as well."

Looking back at his assembled force, he pointed north. "Narnians! For Queen Susan! We RUN!"

The Centaurs, Fauns, and Hounds thundered from the clearing.

_5_

Carefully, the young man crept through the undergrowth outside the camp. The sound of rhythmic incantations drifted his way from the various fires scattered about the site. Far too reliant on their magics, instead of keeping watch, the hags huddled around the various pots working on the potions from which they drew their powers. All through the early evening he had watched them bustling about, fetching ingredients, stirring cauldrons, conversing or out-right arguing. Always looking inward to their projects, never outward.

On a few occasions, he had seen Meertz, disdainfully interacting with her minions. She would storm out of her tent, issuing orders to be brought items or people of interest. A few times she came out offering snide advice or commentary on the potions.

With careful effort, he managed to get close in behind her tent, and now he waited to hear its occupant depart.

Finally she left, harassing the cooks about her dinner.

Carefully lifting the skirts of the drab brown tent, he rolled underneath. He was in a small room divided from the rest of the tent by a wall of canvas. A single candle dimly lit the interior, it's orange flame giving the fabric a reddish hue. Beside where he had crawled in was a cot and a low table. With a bemused expression, he picked up a small rough stone from the table. Tossing it lightly in the air, he caught it with his other hand and slipped it in a pocket.

Stepping to the curtain that divided the sleeping area from the rest of the tent, he carefully separated the flaps and peered into the main room. Here too, a single candle illuminated the scene. A quick search of this part of the tent revealed no traps. The room was filled with soft cushions covered in garish patterns. Images that left the impression of the wailing of condemned souls. Disturbing trinkets, strangely twisted branches, and unidentifiable bones littered the tables, and he could feel the unnatural power radiating from her collection of talismans. Items that were clearly important to the occupant, but none more so than the black stained throne that dominated the space.

He walked to the great wooden chair at the center of the canvas room. The lone candle reflected of the angles and details of its polished surface.

"She does like her little comforts doesn't she?" he muttered with a wry grin.

Taking a seat on Meertz's throne, he threw his right leg over the arm and slouched into the left corner. He looked up expectantly at the snap of a twig outside the tent, but the noises passed by. Disappointed, he settled back into the corner of the chair to wait.

Pulling the stone out of his pocket, he began to slowly file the rough edges off his nails.


	19. Protectors

**A/N:** I apologize for the delay in posting this latest chapter. I had originally intended to get it up before the end of October as a last tidbit before Nanowrimo. Oh well, best laid plans! Thanks again to Straitjackit for the twice done betaing (stupid computer!). The character of Lanarch is dedicated to all First Responders, particularly Robert and Scottie, Firemen serving in Iraq. In the worst of situations, you bring hope as powerful as that which broke Jadis' power over Narnia. As the Jaycee's say... Service to Humanity is (indeed) the Best Work of Life!

**Protectors**

_1_

Pea paused a moment to pant. Ack's and Chessie's larger size made it very hard for the small squirrel to keep up, but she was not going to let _that boy_ and her older sister get away easily. Looking down, she saw them sprint off the trunk and shoot across the forest floor to the next tree over.

Chessie was out in front, running like there was no tree in front of her. Pea watched as at the last moment, her sister, leapt, twisted, and sank her claws into the tree trunk. Without breaking stride, she began spiraling up the other tree, Ack close behind her.

Pea spied an opportunity to gain some ground and took off along one of the limbs of the tree she was in. Just a short leap, and she would be above them in the tree they were climbing. Chittering giddily, she imagined the surprise Acorn and Chestnut were going to feel seeing her waiting for them. As she bounded the length of the limb, the young squirrel looked to the gap in front of her. The five foot leap was going to be her longest yet.

Heart pounding in her ears, she approached the end of the branch, gaging its flex with each bound. She locked her eyes on the opposite limb, hit her last bounce and sprang outward over the gap.

Mid-leap, her landing branch moved.

_Moved?!?_

Looking down, Pea caught a glimpse of a massive creature stumbling as the metal tipped pole it carried tangled with the tree's limbs. The branch was still waving violently as she sailed through the outer leaves.

Desperate, the young squirrel grabbed at every leaf. With great joy, she managed to snag one of the small branches with her forepaws.

Relieved, Pea let out a huge sigh. Looking to the trunk, she saw Chessie and Ack, jaws open, staring at her. The young squirrel grinned at her success in both the leap and predicting her sister's reaction.

A loud grunt from below her drew her attention. Curious, she looked down to see what manner of creature had nearly ruined her leap. From her precariously secured position, she leaned her head downwards through the leaves, just as the the limb shook violently.

Terrified, Pea desperately struggled to hang on amid the wild gyrations.

"Pea! Hang on!" Chestnut yelled.

Hearing her name, Pea locked eyes with her sister. Chessie and Ack were racing up the trunk to reach the limb she was clinging to.

With a sharp jerk, the pike tore free, the sudden motion breaking her grip from the branch.

"Chessie!"

_2_

In the hours since Oreius had departed in pursuit of the Minotaur, the peaceful glade had been converted into an armed camp. Only the swiftest had accompanied the General on the chase. The rest had been left with orders that no further misfortune be allowed to effect the dryads and especially Queen Susan.

Tired from the all night party, followed by the Minotaur attack and a morning spent helping organize the army camp in the clearing, Susan was in desperate need of some rest. The quiver on her back seemed to gain pounds with every step she took. Finding Fiz, she gently steered him away from the defensive preparations and to her tree.

Fiz pushed the quiver and bow Susan tried to hand him back into her hands.

"No! No matter what, you keep that with you at all times." Susan had seen many of Fiz's moods, but this vicious protectiveness was something she had not yet encountered.

"Rahd?" Her voice carried every ounce of the fear he made her feel.

He jumped at the tone that came across with his name and the haunted look that she often wondered about returned to his face.

"Please Rahd," She pressed ahead. "Without some rest, I am useless, and I can't take these into the tree with me."

Again, she held her quiver and bow out to him.

The haunted expression turned to anguish. His back hunched over and his shoulders dangled morosely from his neck. He closed his eyes and a tear leaked out.

Now he spoke with a barely audible whisper. "No. Not again."

The words awakened something within him. She watched as the muscles along his jaw stiffened, then his shoulders came up and his back straightened. Fury burned in his eyes when he looked up at her and his voice came forth with a terrible rumble. "Not EVER again!"

Snatching Susan's hand he dragged her with amazing swiftness in the direction of his tree. Barely keeping her balance, she stumbled and ran to keep up with him. As if summoned, the Oak appeared at their side.

Susan plowed into Fiz's side as he stopped and turned to face the elder Dryad.

"Father Oak." Fiz bowed his head briefly. When he resumed, his voice again carried the new weight and power. "We Dryads are safe. The threat has been and remains to Susan. She now has but one defense." Fiz took the Oak's arm in his hand. "Will you be our witness?"

"Witness?" Puzzled, Susan looked from one to the other.

The Oak looked into Fiz's eyes. With a sad smile, he reached out and clasped Fiz on the shoulder. "I know not if it is for good or ill, but you are no longer the untamed child you were mere weeks ago." He switched his focus to her. "Does Susan understand what you wish to do?"

"Fiz? What..."

"Ah, I see you have not yet shared with her your plan." The old Dryad bowed. "I will go prepare myself and await by your tree, Fisrahd."

In spite of her fatigue, Susan adopted her most regal and imposing posture. Watching the dryad elder depart, she could feel the heavy weight of the bags forming under her eyes, trying to drag them closed. Overriding those sensations and staring at Fiz through hardened eyes, she dug in her heels. "Fisrahd Ashe, I'm not moving another step without an explanation."

He stared at the ground by her feet. His sudden shift from full-blown action to tongue-tied teenager snagged at her. Reaching out, she took his hands in hers and lifted them below her chin. Exhaustion won out over discretion and she plowed ahead into what in a more clearheaded moment she would consider dangerous waters.

"You said 'not again'. Who were they?" Susan gazed deep into his green eyes, looking for the answer.

"She." He faltered again.

"She?" Susan felt her chest tighten with a pang of jealousy.

"M...my sister."

The bottom fell out of Susan's stomach. Fiz's sister. She felt her jaw go slack as the impact of what she had been thinking collided with reality and fell to dust around her.

Eyes closed and sobbing, Fiz continued. "Before the long winter. Hags stole a limb, just the tiniest twig, from her tree. While we cowered in her trunk, they lit a fire almost on the spot where your willow stands." Tears streamed freely down his face. "She was dragged from the tree. I was hiding with her. I couldn't hold onto her."

Susan pulled him into a deep hug as he cried on her shoulder.

"She was older. I learned everything I have taught you from her. Everything except what I am about to ask." He pushed backward out of the hug, holding her at arms length.

"There is only one way I can guarantee that I will be there to protect you. Will you bond with me?"

"Bond?" As the implications of his question struck, Susan felt her eyes widen and she had a hard time breathing enough air. "You mean like Marry?"

"Yes, bonding is one of the steps that Dryads do when marrying, but that is not why I am asking." With the uncomfortable question out in the open, Fiz's confidence flowed back.

Her eyes narrowed. "What, pray-tell are your intentions then, Sir?"

"Bonding links the spirits of two trees. Where one goes, the other must follow." He reached out and took her arm again. "I promised to protect you. In order to do that, I must be able to go where you go as fast as you are taken there. Bonding is the only way I can do that."

Susan considered what he was asking. "Is it permanent?"

"It can be broken, though I would hope, especially if your restoration were to be unsuccessful, that you would chose not to." He looked away from her.

She pulled him into a hug. "Remember when I said I did not need another brother?"

He nodded.

"I lied. I think I have room for you to care about me that way." She smiled and looked up into his eyes. "So long as it doesn't stop there."

Leaning in, they shared a lingering kiss.

_3_

"Pea!"

Chessie didn't know if she had yelled, or if it was Acorn. All she knew was that her little sister had just fallen out of the tree. Panic snagged at the older squirrel's heart, her fur stood out on end, bristling with her adrenaline charged emotion.

Ack sprang past her, racing out to the end of the limb. Jumping to the side of the branch, Chestnut watched as Pea landed on the upturned face of the Minotaur. With a mad leap, the young squirrel sprang away just as the beast's huge hands pummeled it's own face.

Pea hit the ground, rolling among the thundering feet of the Minotaur who continued to run beneath the tree. Chessie's heart pounded in rhythm with their footfalls as she watched her little sister gain her feet and bounce out of the way of an oncoming hoof.

The young squirrel's panic filled eyes reflected the charging herd. Every bounce and leap seemed to start or end beside the deadly hooves of one of the huge beasts. Unconsciously, Chessie flexed and swayed in time with Pea's jumps and dodges.

Chessie's claws dug deeply into the tree limb as a cloud of leaves obscured the youngster for a moment.

There was a squeal and she saw Pea fly into the back of one of the two legged bull beasts. One of them had kicked her off the ground.

As Pea's claws sank into the back of the Minotaur, it roared. Sweeping the shaft of its pike across its back, she was knocked loose and sent flying for the fifth time that day. Hitting the ground one final time, the young squirrel rolled into a tiny ball as the last of the Minotaur streamed by.

_4_

Standing before Fisrahd's tree, sunlight glistened off of the Elder's pure white robe. Worried creases deeply furrowed his already wrinkled brow as he gazed at Susan. While Fiz clambered back down the trunk of the tree with a handful of ash leaves, she tore her eyes away from him to return the Oak's stare.

With a heavy thud, Fiz landed on the loam to one side of the elder. Handing the leaves to the Oak Dryad, Fiz stepped back beside Susan and took her hand.

Closing his eyes for a moment, the Elder took a deep breath and slowly released it. Opening his eyes he looked at each of them, holding their eyes with his own. "You both understand the gravity and consequences of what you are about to do?"

Glancing at each other briefly, Susan and Fisrahd both nodded.

"This will be a limited bonding, only one party will be compelled. Fisrahd Ashe, you accept this role for yourself?" He looked long and hard into the younger dryad's eyes.

Fiz returned his stare. Squeezing Susan's hand, he answered. "I accept." He turned to Susan. "Wherever you go, so too shall I."

"Susan Willow. You are new to our ways." The Oak Dryad turned his dark brown eyes on her. "Do you accept the bonding of Fisrahd Ashe to your spirit?"

Susan bowed her head. "I too accept."

"Susan, please hold out your right hand."

With a rustle of fabric, the Oak reached out and dropped the ash leaves into her outstretched palm. Susan looked at the leaves there, then over at Fiz.

Behind his rock hard gaze, she could see the compassion and tenderness. Something wasn't quite right. Looking more deeply, she realized that the impulsive mischief that drew them together at the start had been buried. Somehow, with that missing, she could not think of him as Fiz.

"Rahd?"

His green eyes broke away from hers, nodding, he lifted her hand. Opening her mouth, she took the leaves and chewed them. As she chewed, she saw Rahd stagger for a moment. When she made to stop, he looked at her and shook his head. The leaves became a rough, bitter paste in her mouth which she swallowed.

As the leaves slid down her throat, she could feel a subtle difference spread outward through her body.

'They didn't tell me it would feel like this.' Susan heard Fiz's voice in her head.

'Rahd?' She thought back.

He looked over at her and grinned. "Just like in the tree!"

The Oak Dryad cleared his throat then spoke with a husky voice. "Young Ashe. You have accepted the charge of protecting Susan Willow. You should have the tools with which to do so."

The ancient tree spirit closed his eyes and knelt on the ground between Fiz's tree's roots.

"Since the dawn of the world, dwarves have been the masters of all crafts dealing in the working and manipulation of metals. Yet their lifetimes of training and expertise still pale beside what we who grow from the land can do. In the name of the Lion, I call now upon the minerals of the earth to once more grow."

Holding his hands palm down over the dirt, he concentrated on shaping the flow of magic through the earth under the glade. Slowly, a long thin sword rose between his hands until it stood even with his bowed head.

Lifting the blade, he stood. As he turned and held it out to Rahd, Susan could see the pride and emotion that the old Oak felt for the younger dryad.

"Fisrahd, today you have attained your majority. Accept this gift from a proud stepfather. Use it always for the good of others and it will not fail you."

Fiz knelt before the Elder and accepted the rapier.

_5_

Peter reached again into the pouch slung on his left hip. Once more reassuring himself that the object of his quest was actually there. He could feel the hairs tangled in the stiff bristles.

'So much trouble from such a small thing,' he thought.

"Giant's!" A member of the rear-guard cried in alarm.

Peter heard the guard commander organizing a quick defense. Adrenaline flooded his system as his battle reflexes kicked in and he turned his horse to join them.

"King Peter." An old Marsh-wiggle intercepted the young monarch. "Like as not, it is my doom that approaches from yonder moor, and even should you continue your withdrawal, the enemy will most likely catch you too. But Sire I implore you, think of your Sister and keep riding away."

A bellow followed by a low whooshing noise came from the direction of the giants. The sound grew until a large boulder separated itself from the fog and splashed into the mud between the rear guard and the King.

Loathing to retreat from a fight, Peter wished the Marsh-wiggle's advice were not so sound. However, it was true that if he stopped to fight, the entire army would stop with him. What mattered now was getting the brush to Jaevyan and getting to wherever it was that Susan had ended up.

Peter nodded to the Marsh-wiggle. "Tell the Captain of the Guard that we leave the Ettinsmoor with all haste. He is to stand or retreat at his discretion, but take no unnecessary risks."

Pivoting his horse, he cantered back to the main body of the retiring army. The sounds of battle fading behind him.

_6_

"Pea?" Chessie's voice quavered as she approached the small gray, unmoving, lump of fur.

Ack brushed up against her as she froze. Chessie couldn't bear to take the final steps to find out if her sister were dead.

Dead. How was she going to explain this to her parents.

"Pea! I'm so sorry! I was supposed to protect you." She broke down crying, her own gray coat quivering with the sobs.

Ack walked slowly over and stuck his nose down in Pea's face.

His head shot up, nose twitching. "Chessie! She moved!"

"Pea!" Tears still streaming, Chessie leapt to her sister's side.

The tiny squirrel's entire body was quivering. Chessie wrapped herself completely around the youngster and cradled her in her arms.

"Shh little Pea. Chessie's here and I won't let anything else bad happen to you ever ever ever again." She whispered.

Several hounds bounded through at that moment. Ack started to bolt for the nearest tree, but turned back when Chessie didn't move.

"I won't leave her!" She yelled.

At her words, the last hound in line plowed to a stop, pushing up a huge mound of leaves as the forest floor gave way beneath him. Shaking off the pile, he turned to face the squirrels.

"Har you 'urt?"

Chessie looked up at the talking hound. "I don't know. My sister fell out of the tree among those two legged Bull-beasts as they passed. I think she was kicked, but she's not waking up."

The hound looked thoughtful for a moment then leaned back and let loose a long, multi-tonal howl. When the howl concluded he looked back to the squirrels.

"Stay 'ere. 'Elp is coming. I must resume 'eh 'unt."

As the hound bounded off, the thunder of hooves returned. Fearfully, Ack and Chessie looked at each other, but this time, they gave the squirrels a wide berth.

A small figure broke from the crowd of Centaurs and Fauns that were rushing by. Through the clouds of dust and leaves that the army kicked up, it ran towards them on its hairy goat-legs. It wore a white vest with the embroidered image of a jeweled vial overlapping the outline of The Lion on the left chest. As it approached, it slowed to walk the last several steps.

Squatting on his haunches, the Faun swung a bag off of his back and let it drop to the ground beside him. "My name's Lanarch, I am a medic. Mudnose howled that someone here was hurt."

"M...m...Mudnose?" Chessie was puzzled by the name.

"The hound who stopped." He said while sweeping some debris away.

The medic spread a towel on the ground between himself and the squirrels and smiled at Chessie.

In that flash of teeth and twinkling eyes, Chessie read his soul. She saw that he was exactly where he wanted to be, doing exactly what he wanted to be doing. Lanarch fought against pain and illness, not fell beasts and forces of darkness. He didn't need combat to find glory or honor.

The medic's smile told Chessie everything would be all right.

And she believed every radiant, unspoken word of it.

He reached out to take Pea from her.

"Here, let me see the little one."


	20. Honor

**A/N: **Hi all! Sorry it has been so long... I think Nanowrimo drained me for a bit. Thanks again to Straitjackit for her patience (actually she was flaying me alive for not getting this to her faster. :D Not to mention the pressure now that my Mom is addicted to this story!) and insightful betaing. Remember! Please Review! I can't improve if you don't!

**Honor**

_1_

Dark brown muck steamed and bubbled in the flickering torchlight. Bright green flames licked at the rivulets that boiled down the outside of the large pot. Evil hisses punctuated the crackle of the fire as the overflow dripped into the hot coals.

"Show me." The Meertz sneered.

The young hag, who'd had the temerity to interrupt her elder's harangue of the cooks, blanched and took a step backward from her potion.

Meertz stared disdainfully into the cauldron the youth had been bragging about. Its foul, mud color, and sickly sweet reek nearly turned her stomach. But if the youth could not see the results of her inexperience, so be it.

With a cold determination, she turned to face the adolescent. "You said this was to be a potion to make you attractive to human men. Very well then." Meertz dipped a ladle into the muck and held it out to the other hag. "Drink it."

The youth stumbled backwards, tripping on the feet of one of the cooks. "B b bb but I merely wish your advice on if I was close to achie..."

Meertz snapped the fingers on her free hand. Instantly, two older hags grabbed the younger while the one she'd tripped over pulled her head back and pried open her mouth. With a grin, Meertz poured the contents of the ladle down her throat.

"If it works, youngster, consider the honor." Again, the sneer pulled at Meertz's face as she placed a hand over the young hag's mouth, sealing the potion in. "But if, as I fear, it does not... Well, then the lesson you learn, should you survive, will be most valuable."

The young hag stopped struggling and swallowed the potion. The other four stepped away as her body convulsed violently. Collapsing to the ground, her skin seemed to melt from its natural gray-green to a nearly translucent, creamy pinkish-ivory. Her waist pulled in, her limbs lengthened, and her back straightened.

Meertz was actually impressed by the transformation. As the young hag staggered awkwardly to her feet, the Hagarathan Elder stepped closer to study the changes. The body truly was one a young human male would find attractive, with its long shapely legs, curvaceous proportions, and softly glowing golden hair.

"You have done better than I thought, youngster. Though, I daresay certain aspects still leave much to be desired."

Meertz spun and walked away, leaving the young semi-human hag to contemplate her bulbous green nose, three fingered hands and gray-green, yellow clawed and calloused feet.

Stopping outside her tent, she dismissed the attendants who had followed her through the camp. She wanted to be alone as she contemplated why General Kine had not yet returned with a progress report on the forces he'd sent to gather that young Narnian Queen's leaves.

The Minotaur had begun to make her uneasy. Her Queen's power had kept them easily in check, but as a Hagarathan, Meertz's access to magic derived from potions and the imprisoned spirits she could twist to her will. She knew she could not overawe the bulls as Jadis had.

Pulling back the flap, she stepped into darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she could see that the candle in the second room still burned, back-lighting the thin canvas dividing wall. She turned to the table to re-light the candle there.

As she fumbled for a taper to carry to the other room, a low, sultry voice caught at her attention.

"Ah Meertz, you have taken your sweet time returning here."

"Show yourself." Fear colored her voice as she spun around, but in the darkness, she could only make out vague shapes.

"I must say, your attempt on the usurpers has been very entertaining, if a bit predictable. Surprising, really, how well it has worked so far."

Meertz's eyes darted about the tent. Flickers of false movement caught at the periphery of her vision as she strained to see the source of the oddly familiar voice.

"Who are you?" Her own voice quavered, afraid of the answer.

"Someone who knows you, daughter of mud."

Meertz's spoke in a trembling whisper as she fell to her knees. "Mistress?"

Dark, cold laughter came from the direction of her chair as a tall figure separated itself from the background. As the shadow grew in front of her, waves of deeply chilled air washed over her.

This time, the voice came just a bit deeper. "Not quite, my minion. Not quite, but maybe."

"How? How is it possible, whe I have the last vial of your blood." She clutched at the precious jar hanging on the thong around her neck.

Light flared as a candle was lit, and she saw before her a young man.

The one who had served and then betrayed her mistress.

Edmund, King of Narnia.

_2_

Tiaana could hear the clinking of glass as a young faun picked up one of the crates and carried it out of her shop. All of the perfume, and half the inventory of her lab, was being packed aboard a large wagon for the trip to where Queen Susan's changed form had taken root.

"Do be careful with those, please." She admonished the soldier.

Turning to Jaevyan, she whispered. "Those children who Edmund had deliver them here were more careful."

"Aye," The Centauress' warm, unperturbed voice replied, "they knew the true weight of that which they carried."

Turning back to Tiaana's shelves, the Seeress continued examining the various powders, dried leaves and liquids. Some she would select and test carefully. Once they satisfied her, she would pass them to the dryad apothecary to be carefully packed into an open, straw-filled crate.

She held up a small clear jar filled with an ocher powder. "Do you have more of this?"

Tiaana looked closely at the jar. "I believe so. How much do we need?"

"At least four times what is here." Jaevyan replied.

"I'll be right back."

Turning, the Cherry Tree Dryad bolted for the back room of her shop. Out of the Seeress' sight, she let herself relax. In her presence, the dryad felt like a sapling again, struggling to win the praise of a parent or of a particularly strict teacher. Tiaana's worry at what she and Jaevyan were attempting etched itself across her brow.

Her appearance reflected in the myriad of glass jars, she couldn't help but notice the effect the tension was having on her. Her normally neat red hair was unkempt, flicking about her head wildly at the slightest provocation. The walnut eyes that normally glistened and laughed were dull and flat, yet looked as if they would fill with tears at any moment. Even her normally vibrant skin seemed to be a dull gray.

Shaking off the self-inspection, she reached into a cupboard, pulled out a large clean jar and set it on the storeroom workbench.

'My own abilities were stretched to their very limits making the potion for Edmund.' She closed her eyes. "Aslan help me, Jaevyan and Queen Susan are counting on my meager skill."

A peaceful calm washed over her like a breath of warm air. Succeed or not, there could be no doubt from anyone that she had not done her very best.

Opening her eyes, she uncovered the large wooden cask full of the ocher powder. With a wooden scoop, she dipped and poured until she had filled the glass jar.

Finished, she resealed the cask then carefully cleaned the scoop, returning it to the wall hook it came from.

As she carried the jar to the front of the shop, she heard the clicking of a Faun's hooves. The soldier must have returned for the next crate.

"Apothecary Tiaana." It wasn't the soldier who bowed to her with a courtly greeting.

"Counselor Tumnus?" She hadn't expected him to join them in their departure preparations. He'd also never, except on the most formal of occasions, addressed her by a title rather than her proper name.

Carefully, she lay the large jar in the straw-lined crate, then returned his bow. As she straighted, she noticed that the front door had been shut and the bolt thrown. Even more puzzled, she turned to face the faun.

Seeing that he had Tiaana's and Jaevyan's attention, he started to speak.

"I...We...uh..."

Tiaana hurried to his side as his proud shoulders sagged and he leaned heavily on the counter. She pulled a stool out from under the workbench and guided him to sit on it. Meanwhile, Jaevyan had poured him a glass of water from a pitcher they'd been keeping handy during the packing.

Tumnus took a sip of the water and pulled himself together.

"We've had news from Orieus."

She reached out and took his hand. "Yes."

"The army has been granted access to the Dryad Glade where Susan's tree took root." Tumnus took a deep breath, he looked as one on the verge of tears.

"That's good news. Why are you upset?" Tiaana glanced at the Centauress.

Jaevyan merely continued to watch Tumnus, waiting patiently for him to finish.

"Minotaurs attacked this morning. Limbs from her tree have been taken." The faun began to sob.

Tiaana nearly collapsed at the news.

_Hags chanted in a circle around a large boiling pot. Standing by the cauldron, an old and particularly ugly hag raised a handful of willow fronds to the dark sky. With a flare from the fire, the fronds are shoved beneath the pot. A piercing scream rise__s in the distance as Queen Susan is swept to the center of the circle of hags. With a cackle the hags descend upon the helpless Queen._

With a moan, Tiaana blinked the horrible vision of Susan dissolving into a Hagarathan potion from her mind.

Looking up, expecting to see anger or quiet outrage, she was amazed to find Jaevyan smiling. Tugging on Tumnus scarf, she got him to look up at the expression on the Centaur Seeress face.

"J-Jaevyan?" Tiaana stammered.

Jaevyan's smile grew larger. "She's made her mistake!"

"Mistake?" Tumnus replied.

"Aye. Meertz could have stopped us if she'd used her resources to attempt to block our retrieval of the various items, but instead, she has blindly focused on her original objective."

"But we still don't have the vial, King Peter's not back yet with the brush aa... and no one has heard from Queen Lucy since she sailed." Tumnus voice cracked and worry poured through at his mention of Lucy.

Jaevyan took Tumnus by the shoulder. "Your quest is complete. King Peter has sent word of his success and he is en-route to the glade. Edmund should be in or near Meertz's camp by now. Susan has been briefed on what we seek from Meertz, so, if she should end up in her camp, our chances of acquiring the vial are doubled."

"But, if Queen Susan is summoned..."

"Queen Susan is no dryad. No offense Tiaana. Susan is very capable of defending and extracting herself from Meertz's camp. If the Minotaur reach Meertz, Orieus won't be far behind, and if Edmund is there, then Jadis herself couldn't help Meertz win." The Centaur Seeress took a breath and stared briefly off into a suddenly less murky future.

Hooves clicked on stone as Tumnus leapt to his feet.

"Susan Rescued by General Orieus," The faun grabbed the dryad's hands.

Tiaana clutched tightly back, also rising, excitement building. "As King Peter rides into the glade, waving the brush in triumph."

Tumnus was bubbling over with renewed enthusiasm. "You should begin the prepar-"

Nodding wildly, Tiaana interrupted him. "It would then only take a short time to-"

"And Susan would be restored!" Tumnus crowed.

Jaevyan walked to the window, looking out at the harbor before calmly turning back to her companions. Solemnity flooded the room, calming Tiaana and Tumnus' exuberance.

As she spoke, her voice no longer had the excited and joyous tone of before. "Guard yourselves against too much enthusiasm. Our chances have improved but success is not assured."

The Centauress gave Tumnus a lingering look. "All now rests on Lucy. She must acquire the Box of Elgyn and return in time."

"Meanwhile Tiaana," Turning, she gestured to the jars of powders and liquids. "We must finish our preparations and depart with all haste."

_3_

The Narnians were gaining. Cervid could feel their pursuit. Magic and misdirection, all the tricks the officers had tried failed to shake their pursuers. While some of the taur had focused themselves solely on the run, he had kept his head up, studying the terrain and watching for signs of the pursuit closing. Occasionally hearing a bark from their tracking hounds, more often catching the cries of the birds twice disturbed by an army's passage.

As they hurried between a set of cliffs, the stitch in his side re-asserted itself.

As he stumbled he took note of how narrow the pass had become.

"General Kine!" He shouted.

The General slowed until he was jogging alongside the scout. "Scout Cervid?"

"We're not going to reach the camp ahead of the Narnians, Sir. They are too fast for us to lose them." Cervid took a deep breath and pressed a palm against the sore muscle in his abdomen.

Kine looked up at the steep hills falling into the pass they were running through.

"You have a suggestion, Lieutenant?" The General asked.

Cervid blinked at the spot promotion. "Lieutenant?"

"You've earned it Lieutenant Cervid. Your suggestion?"

"Yes sir. My Scout Squad. We could set one bear of an ambush in this pass. That would slow the pursuit, allowing the rest of the taur to reach the camp defenses."

The General looked again at the cliffs they ran between. Nodding to Cervid he picked up his pace to overtake the lead element.

"Captain!" Cervid heard the General shout. "Halt the taur!"

The Minotaur came to a halt just outside the far end of the pass. As the taur shared canteens and broke out trail food, Cervid gathered his scout squad together, quietly filling them in on what was coming.

General Kine leapt on top of a boulder. "My Taur. You have fought well and achieved much against strong opposition. You serve with honor."

He paused and looked at the Scouts who had gathered around Cervid. "Our enemies gain on us even as we run. For the good of our mission, the time has come to divide our forces. Lieutenant Cervid..."

The scouts raised such a racket with their hooting, lowing, and back slapping at Cervid's promotion that Kine had to stop and wait for them to settle down.

Smiling at the enthusiastic scouts, Kine continued. "The Lieutenant will lead our Scout element in a rear-guard action to allow the rest of us to reach the camp. Any scouts currently carrying branches should pass them on now."

As the scouts began divesting themselves of willow fronds, General Kine and the Captain came over to Cervid.

The Captain held out his hand. "Congratulations Lieutenant."

Cervid shook it. "Thank you sir."

Kine touched the Captain on the shoulder. "Get the taur organized and moving."

The other officer saluted and turned to organize the other minotaur.

"Lieutenant, I will not order you to hold your position to the last taur. Hold as long as you can, then try to get them to follow you away from us. You're here to buy us time, that's all."

Cervid saluted. "Yes sir!"

The General turned and jogged off to join the other minotaur already thundering into the woods beyond the ridges.

The scouts gathered around him as he studied the pass. Large boulders rested on the steep slopes, ready to roll to the bottom with little help. Ledges stepping down from the cliff tops would provide protected places from which to launch projectiles at the onrushing army. Those same ledges would allow for an easy retreat from the position once the delay had been bought.

With excited anticipation, he divided the scouts into two elements.

"You see those boulders there," he pointed up the steep hill on his right, "and there." He turned and pointed to similar set on the left. "I want them pried loose and rolled to the valley floor right away."

His squad set to work damming up the pathway through the pass. Anyone following them through would have to slow down to work their way over the boulders. That would make them vulnerable.

As the rumble from the last set of boulders faded, he could hear the baying of hounds in the distance. With a grim smile, he ordered his taur along the ledges where they prepared their crossbows and dead-falls.

_4_

The cries of the carrion birds drove him onward. He could see them circling the pass ahead of him. When the flying scavengers gathered in those numbers there must be a battle taking place.

Reassurance displaced his concern as he reached up and grabbed the strap of his medical kit. The kit he had been honored to receive from Queen Lucy upon his completion of the course in field medicine. He smiled at the memory of her young face looking up at him as she reached up and lowered the strap around his neck and shoulder.

Lanarch remembered his promise that day.

_"In the name of the Sovereign Monarchs of Narnia_

_I will leave no wound untended,_

_I will leave no illness untreated._

_By Aslan's grace,_

_ I will leave no sufferer un-healed."_

Jogging into the pass, he could see the aftermath of the battle. A small group of Narnians had stayed behind to care for and guard the injured while the rest had resumed their pursuit of the Minotaur. Moving among the injured he quickly checked the splints and dressings that had been applied by their mates. Occasionally he would tighten a dressing or re-arrange a splint, but it was clear that the lessons he'd been teaching in camp were being well followed.

Several bodies had been laid to one side of the trail. With hope, he checked each for any signs of life, sadly finding none. Working further along the pass he made his way past the fallen boulders. About to turn back he heard a low groan from around the bend.

Yelling over his shoulder to a pair of centaur to come help, he broke into a run.

Rounding the bend he slid to a stop. The groans were coming from a semi-conscious Minotaur.

Half-man, half-bull.

Warrior of the White Witch.

Thief of his Queen's branches!

The enemy!

_By Aslan's grace,_

_ I will leave no sufferer un-healed._

Nodding to himself, Lanarch pulled the bag from his shoulder and marched resolutely to the Minotaur. Kneeling, he began to check the injuries.

The two centaur thundered to a stop where he had.

"Lanarch! His people... He caused the carnage you just ran through. Why are you treating a him?"

Pausing, he looked up at the two soldiers. "I made a promise. A promise to both Queen Lucy and to Aslan. No living thing is my enemy, only death!"

Turning back to the minotaur, he continued studying his wounds. He had a broken arrow in one leg. His other leg was twisted out at an strange angle, broken, as was an arm. One of his horns was broken off and lying twenty feet up the slope. It looked as if the arrow shot had caused him to fall down the steep hillside.

In a moment where the minotaur seemed lucid he questioned him about his injuries. "I'm here to help you. Can you tell me what hurts?"

"Cervid, Lieutenant, Greenhollow herd."


	21. Memories

**A/N: **Okay, this one's a bit long-winded... I think (at least I hope) I am improving on the Descriptive side of things. Once again, this would not be near the final quality without the dedicated support of my awesome Beta-reader Straitjackit! And then there were 10 to go... Please remember to review!

**Memories**

_1_

"I must say, Ser Ashe, you look quite dashing with that rapier on your hip." The arrows in her quiver rattled as Susan spun out ahead of him and walked backwards down the trail. Still holding his hand, she pulled him further away from the bustle of the clearing.

With the relaxing of the Dryad Elder's defenses, it was now possible to move freely about the woods surrounding the clearing. Areas that were inaccessible to her while the magic was at its strongest.

Susan was getting better at extending her senses. While in her dryad form she could now see from the perspective of nearby trees. Still moving backwards, she lightly sprang over a root that looped upward behind her heel.

"You are beginning to do this naturally," Fiz smiled at her. "Once you no longer have to think about it, you will be fully dryad."

He pulled her close as they laughed.

The weight of the quiver and strung bow draped across her back drew at Susan's attention, but she chose to block it out. The day was too beautiful and the weather too perfect for her to surrender to her worries.

Susan paused. Stretching and turning, she took in the green beauty of the Narnian woods. Inhaling deeply she absorbed the summery scents of the plants growing around her. At the back of her mind, she could feel her tree basking in the sunlight. Closing her eyes she listened to the sounds of the forest. Fiz's breathing, the twitter of birds in the tree branches and the sound of the breeze in the high limbs.

With a smile, she focused in on the happy sound of Arisumae's stream bubbling joyfully along beside them, though the Naiad herself had promised to leave them alone.

_"For a little while."_ Ari had said, with a lopsided grin.

It felt good to let go of the tension and worry of the last several days, if only for a short time.

Ahead the stream bent around a boulder and beneath a dense copse of rhododendron.

At the sight of the dense thicket of greenery, Fiz froze. Susan watched as he ruthlessly repressed the sadness that flirted with the corners of his eyes. There was something special about this place.

_'Rahd?'_ She projected.

He looked up with a wan smile. Susan could see the emotions still warring behind his eyes.

"I need to show you this." He said.

Splashing across the stream, Fiz led her around the woody, broad leafed bush. She watched the bright pink flowers blur by as they circled the perimeter of the rhododendron. Ducking into a nearly invisible gap between two of the plants, he led her along a twisting trace. Tufts of leaves and more pink buds on ropey branches arched over their heads. The air was rich with the smell of the evergreen shrub's blossoms. Warm sunlight and cool shadows played across their skin as they moved along the narrow trail to the center of the copse. As they stepped out into a small clearing she looked back and realized that from any distance, the path disappeared.

Amidst the shadows of the trees in their summer finery, Susan found herself standing in an island of bright sunlight. Like a deep green ocean wave, the rhododendron separated the grassy clearing from the surrounding sea of trees. Slicing through the middle of the clearing, Arisumae's stream continued its raucous passage. Turning to look around the open space she made note of the large, flat boulders placed perfectly for sitting by the stream. In the center of the great pool of sunlight stood an Ash tree. With a glance, she could tell that it was more than a plain Ash tree, but it was not a tree-spirit home.

Taking Susan's hand, Fiz led her to the rocks by the brook.

"Before the long winter, Lisi and I found this place." Eyes alight with the memories, his voice was both excited and nostalgic.

"We would come here and pretend we were descendants of Frank and Helen, or emissaries to Archenland."

Fiz leaped atop the largest boulder and slowly rotated on the spot, arms outstretched. With a huge grin he looked down at Susan. Excitement colored his voice as he spoke.

"We'd be explorers and this would be our ship sailing the great eastern sea."

Turning, he looked off to the north then east. His shoulders slumped as he continued, subdued.

"News came of the battles raging and the Narnian losses. It is said that if you sail far enough east, you will come to Aslan's country itself. We dreamed of sailing there and bringing The Lion back with us."

The sadness returned to his face as he stepped off the boulder.

"Children's dreams." He whispered with a sob.

Reaching out, Susan pulled him into a fierce hug.

"It took time, but Aslan did come." She reassured him.

"It's too bad Lisi didn't live to see it. Narnia restored to summer. She saw autumn and I thank Aslan that she didn't have to suffer through the winter." He croaked.

Grabbing Susan's shoulders, Fiz separated from her embrace, walked over to the tree and leaned his cheek against it. "On my last birthday... well... before. She gave me seeds from her own tree. We knew winter was coming and she was worried."

He held out his hand, palm up. Slowly, his fingers curled, as though someone else were closing them for him.

_"'Keep these safe'_ she said _'and if anything happens to me, find them a good home.'"_

He stepped backward, away from the tree.

"As soon as the winter ended, I brought one of the seeds here and planted it. I nurtured it, I sang to it."

Fiz knelt on the ground between the tree and stream, staring at the earth. "In this mud here, I first met Arisumae. Excited at being released from her icy prison, she still dampened her enthusiasm to comfort me. She became a surrogate sister."

Trailing his hand in the stream, he looked back at the tree.

"This is all that is left of Lisi. I've never had the courage to step into this tree. It is a piece of her and I can't bear the thought of being disappointed by not hearing her voice when I enter it." His eyes closed and his head drooped to his chest.

Susan leaned her head back and looked up at the Ash, standing regal against the pale blue sky. Puzzled, she stared at the leaves. There was no wind, yet they were shivering, like the tree itself was crying.

Taking a couple of steps to the tree she lay her hand against the rough bark. Curious as to the tree's movements, she extended her consciousness into the tree. At the contact, a hum seemed to resonate through her body. She could feel the tree drawing energy from her, yet she could not break the contact.

Intense weakness spread outward from the contact. It felt as if every fiber of who she was was being drawn through her palm into the tree.

Susan's eyes widened as she tried to yell for Fiz and realized she couldn't speak.

'Fiz!' she shouted through their bond-link.

His head snapped up at her cry.

'I can't let go!' Susan could feel herself wilting under the onslaught from the tree.

Leaping up from the mud, Fiz grabbed her arm and pulled, but her hand would not come free from the tree. Susan's vision started to swim and she sagged against Fiz, hanging by her stuck hand.

Near panicked, he grabbed her other hand and flooded her with his own energy. Remembering her lessons, Susan reached out and began drawing more from her surroundings. Finally, with a pop, her hand came free of the tree. The two of them collapsed in a heap at it's roots.

Breathing heavily, Susan continued to cling to his hand.

"Fiz?" She asked. "What was that?"

Fiz stared past her shoulder, his mouth agape.

Susan turned to see a lightly dressed young dryad standing above them, her strawberry blond hair haloing her delicate features in the sunlight.

"I am sorry about that," the new dryad spoke, "but, you see, I have a message that must be delivered, and well, I needed to borrow your strength to do it."

She leaned over to help Susan back to her feet.

"Wh...Who are you?" Susan asked.

"Lisi!"

_2_

With a grim smile, Lucy reached under her tunic to rub her left shoulder. Lightly swaying in time with the motions of her mount, her fingers traced the scar left behind by the crossbow bolt. She was fascinated by the feel of running her finger across the small knot with the two short ridges radiating outward from it. Before he had left for the mainland, Aslan had asked if she wanted him to remove that scar and the one on her leg.

She had thought long and hard, she was proud of her body and wanted to keep it looking the very best she could. In the end though, she had decided that the memories the scars would evoke when she looked upon them were worth far more than the casual beauty their removal would restore. When she told the Lion of her decision and reasoning, his great toothy smile had overjoyed her.

After their digression about the scars, he had continued with their earlier topic. "The dragon you go to meet is old and knows much."

Lucy shivered, once again, at the thought of facing the beast.

"But he is not wise?" Lucy, picking up on what was unsaid, had replied.

Aslan had chuckled "No dearest, not wise, else he would not be a dragon."

Somehow, having this conversation with the Great Lion, Lucy simultaneously felt far older and much younger than her thirteen years. She wanted to stop their walk, grab Aslan's mane and huddle against him for protection, yet she also needed to step away and prove to him that she could do what he was asking of her. With her face schooled into a look of concentration, she focused on the lessons he was teaching her.

"So, as a rule, dragons do not have wisdom." She had stated.

"Indeed. Like all higher beasts, they seek to learn, but they confuse the act of knowing with the state of wisdom. Wisdom is the result of lessons learned through the application of knowledge."

Abstractly, she could feel her facial muscles pulling through various expressions as she puzzled through the Great Cat's lesson. Eyes squinted, lips drawn in and brow furrowed, Lucy had puzzled for quite some time before replying.

"Dragons are collectors and are therefore, by nature, greedy. So they gather treasure and knowledge yet they use neither."

Majestically, Aslan had nodded his head. "A dragon can be controlled through the wise use of the knowledge it possesses. Use what a dragon knows, and it will serve you. But be wary, use of that knowledge foolishly will allow the dragon to reassert it's own will."

"What will I need to know about the dragon we go to face?" Lucy had asked.

Aslan laughed. "There is much on that subject that you have already learned, Young One. However, were I to give you the answer, though it might be expedient, it would come with no wisdom, and you, my child, are no dragon."

Aslan had paused then in their walk outside the camp. Sitting down, he had stared into Lucy's eyes. When Lucy had felt that the look could go on no longer, he had spoken one final time.

"Question the dragon, use what you learn with what you know. Lucy, you have the wisdom to choose the correct path. I must now check on your sister and brothers."

With that, Aslan had turned and loped away north-eastward, over the ridge line.

That had been four days before. Though the pirates had made no further attacks on her party, the land itself had conspired against their progress. Thick forests were causing them to detour from the direct route and the shape of the terrain was forcing them to move up and down as much, if not more, than they moved forward.

'Four days!' Lucy suddenly thought. 'I have a little over a week until the next full moon. Unless we recover the box today, I'm out of time'

'I've failed.' Sobs pulled at her shoulders. 'There is no more time.'

Excitement rippled down the line of march. A young faun ran up to her horse.

"Milady! We've found it!"

Shaking off her melancholy, Lucy galloped to the head of the column. Dismounting well back from the edge of the treeline, she made her way on foot to the edge of the woods through which they'd been traveling. There, on the flank of the mountain, about a half-mile further along she saw a thin streamer of smoke pouring from the mouth of a large cave.

Orders were quickly given that a camp was to be made well back in the thickest part of the woods. Lucy, meanwhile, stayed at the edge of the high meadow, watching the smoldering hole in the mountain's side.

_3_

"Lisi!"

Fiz's shout echoed across the clearing.

"Fisrahd Ashe, you are the most miserable excuse for a brother!" Quiet fury laced the dryad's words.

At a glance, Susan could see that she appeared to be the same age as Fiz. Slightly taller, but with the same eyes and nose. Much as with Edmund and Lucy's noses, or Edmund and her own hair, those features, in addition to the reddish tint to her hair clearly identified Lisi and Fiz as family.

"As a sapling, there was not a single tree in the grove you didn't hop inside of! How dare you NOT enter this one?" Lisi's anger built until she was shouting.

Susan couldn't tell if Lisi's ferocity towards Fiz was serious or just a sibling spat. Susan did seem to think they looked a bit like Ed and Lu going after each other before they'd all met Aslan.

"Lisi." Fiz whispered.

His face pale and drawn into an anguished grimace, Susan could tell that his sister's words were cutting him deeply.

"Don't Lisi me!" She snapped. "It took you one hundred years to finally plant this tree, you sang to it to make it grow large and strong, and then..."

Lisi threw her hands up in the air, furious tears streaming from the corners of her own eyes.

"Then, for five years you've ignored it. For over a hundred years I've waited to speak to you one final time and you would-not-come-in-and-talk!"

Fiz withered under his sister's onslaught. Desperate for a way out, he looked over at Susan and shrugged.

"Susan," With a wry grin, Fiz attempted to distract the other dryad. "I want you to meet my sister Liesielle."

The angry tears still dampening her cheeks, Lisi's face broke into a wide smile as she turned and bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet the dryad who has bonded with my brother."

Refusing to be drawn in by his ploy, she turned immediately back to Fiz. "And don't try to change the subject! I only have the one opportunity for this."

Puzzled Susan looked from Lisi to Fiz and back. Lisi looked as real and solid as any Dryad she had met, yet Fiz had said she'd been killed at the hands of the hags.

"One?" Susan asked.

With a deep breath to calm herself, Lisi turned to Susan. "I am a memory, a tiny part of the spirit of Fisrahd's sister."

Lisi reached out and lay a hand on Susan's shoulder. "I am tasked with saying farewell and sharing with him what she left unsaid. I apologize again for drawing on your spirit, but I could not allow the opportunity to finally deliver my message to escape."

Realization dawned and some of Lisi's anger took root inside her. Susan turned on Fiz. "You knew she was in there!?"

Fiz slumped to his knees. "Susan, I failed to protect her when the hags came. How could I face this part of her and tell her that."

Lisi dropped to the ground beside Fiz. "You are still a silly little boy! That is _why_ you needed to talk to me."

Sudden longing for her own siblings overcame her as Susan sat down on the ground facing the dryad pair. Reaching out, she took Fiz's hand. "Fiz, she's here, and she is family. Even if she is only a memory, she should know how you feel."

Smiling, Lisi reached out and took Susan's free hand. The three of them sat for a time, holding hands in a circle, each staring at a spot on the ground between them.

"Susan," Lisi looked over at her. "I felt through our earlier connection how you came to be one of us. Fiz has done a good job of teaching you to be a dryad."

Lisi turned to Fiz. "What I see in her, makes me proud of you Fisrahd."

Susan looked up to see tears flowing down Fiz's cheeks

"Lisi..." He said. "I... I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

In a touching gesture, she let go of Susan's hand and reached up to gently wipe the tears from his face.

"Silly, silly sapling. You still don't get it. I was protecting you!" Lisi replied.

"Me?" Fiz looked up in surprise.

"Mother told me this, and asked me to tell you when the time was right."

Tracing her hand under his chin, she lifted his face to look into his eyes.

"Today is that day," she continued. "A hundred and twenty years dim in the memory, even of a dryad. Fisrahd, there is something very special about you. Mother was old when you were born. You were just barely old enough to be bound to your own tree when she passed away, leaving me this message to share with you. She never said what it was exactly, but she made it very clear that you were not just a normal ash tree dryad. She said to make sure to tell you 'Do not forget Alex.'"

Fiz looked up at her puzzled. "Alex?"

Her brother's tears still wet on her skin, Lisi reached out and re-grabbed Susan's hand.

"All she said, little brother."

Liesielle began fading against the background of rhododendron. Susan could feel energy flowing back into her through the dryad's grip on her hand.

With a wan smile, Lisi leaned over and kissed Fiz on the forehead. "My message is delivered, you two take care of each other."

"Please, Lisi, can't you stay a little longer?" Fiz begged.

The dryad spirit became translucent as more of her energy returned to Susan and Fiz.

"I have to go now, but be certain, I will be waiting for you in Aslan's country."

Her eyes widened, as if she were seeing the world anew. Susan suspected she new what Lisi was seeing as the memory of her own brief visit to that amazing country rushed back to her. Lisi's face transformed into a radiant smile.

There was a snap and the energy flow ended. Susan looked up at the now plain ash tree. Grabbing Fiz, she pulled him into a fierce hug, continuing to hold him even when Arisumae showed up later and soaked them thoroughly.

_4_

The young semi-hag stood trembling as her mistress and the young male human circled slowly around her. Her pink skin deepened to a rich scarlet as a deep chuckle broke from the young noble's throat.

"Ah Meertz. I recall how proud you were of your first transformation potion." The boy's ancient, piercing gaze brushed across the hag-girl's eyes before pinning the elder. "A snake, as I recall. The better to sneak into my enemies' camps you said."

His eye's focused in on the girl's bulbous green nose. "Hag from the waist down, snake above. It is nice to know you did finally work out the reversal potion."

Turning back to Meertz, he stepped very close to her face. "How, exactly, did you manage that, not having any arms with which to mix it."

The heat in her own skin fading, she looked up to see her mistress was now the one trembling.

Circling the elder with the same appraising gaze he had previously turned on the semi-hag, the boy again spoke. "Missstressss, pleassse." He grinned. "Those drawn out esses were so cute coming from your little snake mouth."

Meertz paled as the boy described her snake features.

Mortified at what might happen later, the young hag still took a perverse pleasure in seeing someone do to Meertz what the elder did to everyone else. Relief and disappointment warred within her as cries from the edge of the camp disrupted her mistress and this strange human's interplay.

Meertz looked towards the disturbance. Reasserting her control, she gestured for the boy to follow her as she moved off through the camp. Curious, the semi-hag trailed along behind them. Nearing the fires at the edge of the camp, she made out the massive silhouettes of Minotaur.

Dripping with false sincerity and happiness, Meertz's voice cut across the din. "General Kine, Welcome back. What news do you bring of the operation to acquire the queen's branches?"

From the shadows, the girl-hag saw the boy twitch briefly before smoothly following her mistress into the firelight.

"I bring not new... WHAT IS HE DOING HERE!" Shock and fury lashed outward with the General's voice.

The sound of steel swords scrapping across the leather of their scabbards filled the night. The Hag-girl wrung her hands as she sank more deeply into the shadows. Worry for the young man furrowed her brow. In spite of his strangeness, she found herself liking him.

"General, worry not, our Queen has him under her control."

The General's eyes widened as he looked from the Hagarathan Elder to the boy and back.

"Jadis is dead! And you, Meertz, are a fool." Kine retorted.

In the shadows, the young hag stifled a giggle. Twice in the last hour, she'd seen her mistress belittled by those she dare not offend. She settled into a thicket to watch the rest of the encounter.

Laughter escaped from the human boy's lips, interrupting the developing argument.

"_General_ Kine." He sneered the first word. "Ottman's _batman_ now leads the Great Minotaur nation?"

The Minotaur turned to point his blade at the boy who was now keeled over coughing from laughing so hard.

"If it weren't so funny," the boy continued, "it would be sad. The most powerful army this world has ever seen reduced to being led by the taur responsible for polishing his fallen leader's armor."

"Tell me, Edmund Pevensie," Kine retorted with his own sneer. "Why should I not kill you where you stand. Even if your story to Meertz is true, maybe I and my people want nothing more to do with the likes of Jadis."

Standing straight, Edmund suppressed a final chuckle. "Were that true, Kine, you would not be in this camp at this time. I should not have insulted you General. Ottman was an able strategist, but your political skill is what made him an effective leader for your people."

Kine lowered his sword but kept it pointing in Edmund's direction. "Maybe we were just looking for a good fight."

The boy shook his head. "If I am Jadis, though, do you not think that 'The Queen's Fist' would be one of the first things I sought to re-establish? You wish only good fights, when I can give you glory?"

With a shake of his head, Kine returned his sword to it's sheath, however, none of the other Minotaur copied him. "I know of only one way for you to prove what you say."

Turning he nodded to the Minotaur Captain.

Sheathing his own blade, the Captain went to each of the taur and collected something the semi-hag could not see. As he returned to the firelight, he held a large bundle of branches out to the General.

Accepting them, Kine turned to face Edmund. "You are aware of what I hold?"

Edmund nodded slowly. "Willow fronds from the tree of the dryad form of Queen Susan."

"And you are aware of what will happen upon their destruction?"

With a disturbing smile, Edmund looked from the branches to Kine's eyes. His voice seemed to shift, becoming deeper and less harsh. "That overbearing, sickly-sweet, meddling, mum-want-to-be will be drawn here, where Meertz is going to render her spirit down into a potion."

"You," Kine pointed at Edmund, "will be the one who stuffs these in the fire."

"With pleasure!" The boy snapped, reaching for the fronds.


	22. Convergences

**A/N: **And then there were nine. Thanks to Petraverd and Treefrog for the reviews (sorry you weren't warned about this story's addictive nature!) Welcome aboard to Clouded Horizon too (go read CH's letter from Lucy to her Mom... good stuff!) Once again, many many thanks to my Betareader Straitjackit! Just when I thought the bruises from 'Descriptive' would get a chance to heal.

**Convergences**

_1_

With hooves folded beneath him and his torso stretched out low to the ground, Orieus crouched behind the ridge. Studying the hag's camp through his spyglass, he watched as the early morning sunlight reflected off the gray haze drifting just below the tops of the trees. The fog punctuated by thin columns rising from the smoldering remains of the various fires from the previous night. The morning breeze shifted around from east to north and his nostrils flared as he smelled the crisp air befouled by the miasma of the camp below him. Odors of burnt wood mixed with the reek of over-cooked food and the pungent stench of the varied herbs they boiled in their potions.

Slowly he tracked the movements of a small group of Minotaur through the camp. Hags scattered before the bulls as the formation marched purposefully towards the part of the camp containing the largest tents. Marking time to bellowed orders, the squad came to a halt in front of an elaborately patterned tent. It's garish pattern a stark contrast to the faded and gray colors of the other hag tents. Orieus snorted, he'd seen such tents in giant lands during previous campaigns. They were playrooms for children, the bright colors and random patterning intended to keep the young creatures entertained.

'Half of a day behind.' The Centaur shook his head in an unsuccessful attempt to clear his thoughts.

After the battle at the pass, Orieus had despaired of catching the Minotaur who had the branches. The skirmish at the pass had cost them hours, battling their way through, getting re-organized and proceeding forward more cautiously. The General was reduced to his last option; arrive at the camp before whatever ceremony the Hags had planned for the fronds and Queen Susan.

As they had advanced, praying they could make up the lost ground, they came across Edmund's guards. Storming into a small clearing from two different directions, the two parties had nearly come to blows before recognizing each other. Orieus had already made note to have words with the scouts and flankers from both parties about the specifics of their duties.

The other party were tracking the young King after he'd slipped away to attempt to infiltrate the hag's camp on his own. The glimmer of a second hope grew in the back of his mind. With Edmund inside the camp, perhaps he could take the time to actually plan an attack or infiltration. The combined force had continued to the edges of the hag's camp.

Orieus was, therefore, not surprised to see Edmund within the camp. However, the fact that he was free to move about was very puzzling. How had he managed to retain his independence? Surely he hadn't lost control to the potion Tiaana had made for him. The General frowned at the memory of that piece of news. Magic was a very dangerous thing to meddle with.

As he watched, Edmund turned to a young semi-hag and said something. She immediately ran off through the camp, following whatever order the King had given.

"What are you up to, Sire?" the Centaur General muttered.

_2_

Tiaana looked southward to the low hill. She could just make out the great stones that surrounded the now broken table. She smiled to see how the once barren hilltop was now vibrant with life. What had once been a site steeped in fear and terror had become a beacon of hope and possibility to the people of Narnia. Squinting, she could just make out an ant-like line of Narnians winding their way up the paths of the hill. It had rapidly become a tradition among the people and talking beasts to carry small offerings to leave at the base of the megaliths surrounding the table.

Several years earlier, on the second anniversary of the Battle of Beruna, she had accompanied King Edmund to the hill. His speech to the crowd from that day, 'How I am Not Worthy', still resonated in her memory.

_"I remember. And because I remember every day. Every day I strive. Aslan, How I strive to be worthy of your gift to me. Aslan how..."_

He'd trailed off in tears.

A scribe had taken down his words and they had spread throughout Narnia, and even into Archenland and to the islands. Rumor said that even the Tisroc in Tashban had been moved by the sentiment.

Tearing her thoughts away from the stone table, she directed her attention forward. Staring at the dray wagon loaded with their supplies, she wished there were some way to increase the speed of the team of plodding draft horses. Half of her shop was in that wagon. Her vision blured and a wave of weakness washed over her.

Reaching out her senses, she shifted to drawing more energy from her surroundings and even less from her tree back in Cair Paravel. If she could only have sent her avatar to perform her role on this journey, but it was not capable of physically manipulating the ingredients. Even if it could, and were able to travel that far from her home tree, measuring powdered ingredients in the swirling winds would have been impossible.

The dryad reached down and patted the flanks of the horse who'd agreed to carry her.

"Thank you again, Edgar."

"The honor is mine Tiaana," the horse replied. "Besides, you weigh next to nothing."

A fast clopping came from the road behind them growing louder as it approached. Looking backward, she saw a young Centaur officer cantering up to their party, the sunlight glinting off of his polished rank insignia. In the distance she could see the dust of a larger party following.

"Way, make way for the King's party!" the Lieutenant cried. "For the sake of the Queen, make way!"

Jaevyan dropped back from the head of the column, nodding for Tiaana to follow her. Together, they fell to the rear to meet the young soldier. With a mischievous smile, the Seeress pulled her braids forward and slouched her shoulders. With that simple ruse, she became just another Centaur traveling the roads of the kingdom.

The young soldier pulled alongside them, waving an arm to indicate their entire party and particularly the dray.

"High King Peter is about to pass this way on a mission most urgent. You must draw yon wagon to the side for him to pass."

Tiaana coughed into her hand, hiding the grin on her face as Jaevyan blurred her voice in her reply.

"Aye, we could. But then, ye see, _we _would be late, and _that_ would be most unforgivable."

Glancing back, Tiaana could see the following party getting closer.

Hooves stomping nervously, the young officer also looked at those trailing him. "Ma'am, surely you've heard? Queen Susan has been bewitched, and King Peter rushes to her side with ingredients necessary for her restoration."

"Oh aye, I am familiar with the tale, Lieutenant. I just happen to know that it matters not how soon the High King arrives if he passes us on the road."

The lead elements of the King's party were now just a hundred yards back and Tiaana could see a very weary King Peter, riding near the fore. Gray mud still stained his tunic and smudged his cheeks. Great gray flakes clung like lichen to his armor. By appearances, his party had not stopped riding since departing the Ettinsmoor with the brush.

"Milady, I am afraid I do not understand," the young centaur replied. "All I know is that the King must pass in all haste."

Fingers spread wide and arms outstretched in exasperation, the Lieutenant struggled to calm and restrain himself. Muscles along his jaw line were quivering in frustration as the lead elements pulled abreast of the three of them. As they had slowed significantly during their conversation, there was still significant distance before the King would overtake the rest of the party from Cair Paravel.

Having had her fun with the young officer, Jaevyan flashed Tiaana a conspiratorial smile and squared her shoulders. Rolling her head to either side atop her delicate neck, she flipped her braids back from the sides of her distinctive and elegant face. Immediately, a glad cry came from the direction of the Kings entourage.

"Tiaana! Milady Jaevyan! Well met! Well met indeed!"

Peter's tired, but happy voice carried over the clop of hooves and jangle of armor. The lines etched in his face and the great dark circles under his eyes only reinforced Tiaana's initial impression.

At the King's shout, the young Centaur recognized Jaevyan. His frustration turning to embarrassment, he spluttered through an obeisance and offering of apology.

With a smile, Jaevyan patted his shoulder.

"It is sometimes good not to be recognized, my son. I thank you for the exercise."

Turning to Peter, she and Tiaana bowed.

"Your Majesty," Jaevyan reached out a hand towards him. "You are clearly weary from your quest and travels. Perhaps I could recommend continuing your journey at a more leisurely pace?"

Peter stared out towards the western horizon. Tiaana knew that his vision was focused on the unseen spot where his sister's tree had taken root.

Jaevyan rested her hand on his visibly sagging shoulder.

"You have done your part, now let our strength sustain you. We are near to making our camp for the night. As what you carry is a necessary ingredient for the remedy we must prepare, I invite you to join our party for the remainder of the journey."

Peter's hand dropped to the pouch that hung from a strap off his right hip, patting it to reassure himself the brush was still there. Glancing once more to the horizon ahead he then turned to face the Centaur and Dryad. Tiaana watched the manic energy with which he had been holding himself together dissipate. Fatigued, he nearly fell from his mount as he bowed to them from the saddle.

"Ladies," his voice slurred. "I would be honored."

_3_

General Kine could honestly care less about the plots and plans of that fool hag.

He'd chosen to participate in this venture because it would keep the Narnian rulers off balance and their attention focused elsewhere than the great northwestern plains where the Minotaur had their lands. Perhaps, if enough of these little ventures occurred, his people would have the opportunity to restore the defenses destroyed in the punitive war that had followed Jadis' defeat at Beruna. Kine wasn't fool enough to believe his people would regain their previous ascendancy any time soon, if ever.

But for her to believe that her Queen was somehow reborn in that boy...

Kine shook his head and snorted. Smoke from the fire burning under the great cauldron drifted around, gathering in his bovine nostrils and irritating his large eyes.

On the opposite side of the fire, he watched Edmund lean over and whisper to the semi-hag. She seemed to hang on his every word. Whatever spell had given her that appearance seemed to have also addled her brains. For a moment, the previous evening, he'd thought that Meertz would be stupid enough to insist on allowing the boy to hold onto his sister's branches.

Reaching down, the General rested his hands on the hilt of his broadsword.

Meertz didn't even have the good sense to insist the boy give up his weapons. Kine's vision narrowed as he exhaled slowly, trying to clear the smoke from his nose.

Hags came and went, bringing ingredients for the potion that Meertz intended to use to give herself control over the Monarchs. Their incessant chants droned in his ears. Who cared what wormwood was. What did it matter where the water had come from. Annoyed, the General fought down the urge to draw his blade and remove the head of the nearest chanting hag.

The General glanced up at the westering sun. Home. The rolling, golden plains, grasses waving in ripples on the evening wind. Ruthlessly, he suppressed the longing. First there was the mission.

Soon, though, it would be time to return to his people.

The Hagarathan stirring the pot looked up at Meertz and nodded.

"General," Meertz's voice twisted into a sneer. "The _queen's_ branches."

Kine snorted again. This hag's plots were clumsier than a blind giant in a boulder field.

"You are forgetting. Your _guest_ must prove his intentions." He said.

Turning from the hag, the Minotaur faced across the fire.

"Little King!" The General barked.

At Kine's sarcastic snap, Edmund looked up from his conversation with the young hag. Eyes narrowed in disdain, he walked up to the Minotaur.

"Why do you choose not to trust me, General?" The boy asked.

"If you are either of the people whom you claim to be, that is self evident." The deep rumble of the General's voice was as close to a growl as his throat could make it.

"Then we should get this over with." Edmund sneered. "When I am restored, I shall recall your insolence. Now, give me the branches."

His eyes as cold and hard as ice, Edmund reached out and ripped the willow fronds from the Minotaur's hands. Stepping beside the fire, he held them above his head.

"Locks of the Willow to summon it's spirit!" he cried.

_4_

Word of the High King's approaching party rippled through the glade. Soldiers rushed to form a guard of honor lining the approach to the clearing. Breathing heavily, the Oak elder bustled up to Susan.

"Queen Susan, your brother's party approaches. What form should our greeting to him take?"

A week before, the elder had refused to believe that the prophecy had been fulfilled, and now he was seeking her advice on matters of protocol for dealing with the High King. Mentally, she stepped on Fiz's foot before he could say aloud any of the thoughts that particular irony had sent percolating through his mind. Turning to the Oak, she smiled graciously.

"As Kings and Queens, it is we who serve you," Susan said. "Be sincere and honest. A simple greeting can be far more welcoming than the formal pageantry we are often subjected to."

With a bow, the Elder moved off to organize his people for Peter's arrival.

Susan grabbed Fiz's elbow and steered him towards her tree.

"Come. Let's wait with Arisumae for Peter's party."

As they stepped into the shadow of her willow's branches, Fiz cleared his throat.

"Uh, Susan?"

"Yes Rahd?" she replied.

"Won't he be expecting you to be dressed, well... more conservatively?" Fiz asked.

Glancing down at the lightweight dryad wrap she was wearing, Susan blushed a medium green.

"He would find this look scandalous," she grimaced.

"Let him be scandalized!" the Naiad chimed in.

Susan and Fiz both looked over at the water spirit perched at the streamside. Behind the laughter in Ari's eyes, Su could see the glint of steel that spoke of how serious she was.

"Susan, you told us that Aslan tasked you with becoming fully dryad. What you wear is normal for them, let the High King see that you have fulfilled your duty to the quests."

"If you are sure..." Sue reached out to take Ari's hand.

The Naiad nodded.

Susan's eyes lit up. "There is one thing though."

Releasing her grip, she sprinted the several feet to the Willow's trunk. Reaching into a hollow among the branches, she pulled out her tiara. Carefully positioning it on her head, she turned to Fiz and Arisumae.

"Well?"

Ari cocked her head to one side then held her hand out over the stream. With a gesture, a wall of water rose, glistening and reflecting.

Susan almost didn't recognize the person she saw in the shimmering mirror. She had always been pale, demure and dressed conservatively, now before her stood an image of a young woman with dark hair complementing richly colored skin. A woman whose posture spoke of supreme self confidence. On the woman in the mirror, the dryad shift looked like a royal gown.

Susan raised a hand to her cheek.

"Is that me?"

Fiz and Ari both chuckled.

Trumpets sounded at the edge of the clearing. Susan looked in that direction to see the Oak bowing deeply and speaking with her brother who was accompanied by Tiaana and a strange female Centaur.

"Should we go greet him?" Fiz asked.

Susan shook her head. "No, allow the Oak to make his formal greetings first. He will come straight here afterward. Besides, I think you would rather meet him as my brother than as the High King."

"I'm wondering if I'd rather meet him at all, actually," Fiz grumbled.

Susan glanced at him.

'Rahd, the choice is mine, and I choose you,' she sent down their bond link.

She reached up and adjusted the straps on the quiver she carried, settling it and the bow strapped to it into a more comfortable position across her back.

"My chosen protector shouldn't be slouching," she said aloud. "You carry a sword at my side Ser Ashe."

Fiz gave her a lopsided grin and straightened his posture.

_5_

The formal greetings at the clearings edge broke up. Peter nodded as he shook the Elder's hand, thanking him one final time for the heartfelt greeting. Tiaana and Jaevyan joined him as he crossed the clearing to Susan's tree. Nervously, he paused at the edge of the Willow.

Peter pulled aside a drape of the heavy fringe that cascaded from her tree and stepped into the shadow. As his eyes adjusted to the shade, he got his first look at his sister. He felt them widen in surprise.

A glad cry tore itself from her throat.

"Peter!"

She flung herself at him, wrapping her strong arms around his neck and shoulders.

Peter staggered under the sudden weight of her hug. Awkwardly at first, he brought his arms up to hug this strange new Susan. The rattle of her arrows as his hands bumped the quiver on her back briefly drew his attention.

"We have so much to talk about," she whispered in his ear.

"You have no idea," he replied.

Grinning, they separated, holding each other at arm's length. She was so different, from the greenish brown skin tone to the deep brown hair. The Susan he'd grown up with would not have been caught dead in a dress like that, though she wore it with an unconscious comfort that made it seem as a second skin. Tearing his eyes from the changes, he focused on her deep eyes. In spite of all the differences, staring into her eyes, he found the part of her that was the same.

"You look so... Dryad," he said.

"You've got mud in your mail." Susan said simultaneously.

"Still?" He replied, his voice cracking.

She reached out and ran a finger across his armor, pulling it away coated in a dry gray powder. Laughing, she held it up before his eyes.

Susan turned and bowed to the court apothecary. Peter was somewhat surprised when she slipped her arm around his waist and leaned against his side. He could feel her excited shiver as she spoke to the Cherry Tree Dryad.

"Tiaana, whatever happens, we have to talk, soon." Susan said.

Tiaana's eyes danced as she returned the bow.

"I am at your disposal, my Queen. If I may be so bold, being a Dryad agrees with you." The apothecary said with a smile.

"I've had a hard, but fair taskmaster to see to that," Susan replied.

Peter guided her to the Centaur.

"Susan, I'd like for you to meet Jaevyan, Seer and Centaur Elder. It is she who has guided us in our efforts to effect your restoration."

"My lady," Susan bowed deeply. "It is an honor to meet you. Thank you for your efforts on my behalf."

Jaevyan returned the bow with a regal curtsy.

"The honor is mine, my Queen." The seer replied.

Susan took his arm and gestured to the water spirit.

"Allow me to introduce my friend Arisumae, Naiad of the stream flowing beside us."

Arisumae bowed deeply to the visitors and smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss," Peter replied formally.

She steered him to the young male dryad who'd been standing quietly to one side. Under his red hair, he seemed a bit pale.

"And this," Susan continued, "is Fisrahd Ashe, my instructor in all things Dryad."

Peter's eyes narrowed as he looked at the young male dryad.

Fiz too, bowed deeply.

"I-It is indeed an honor to meet the High King." A nervous tremor edged his voice.

Drawing his sword slowly, Fisrahd knelt, holding the weapon out to him hilt first.

"My sword is pledged to your sister's protection, I offer it to your service as well Sir."

Something seemed a bit odd about this red headed dryad. Peter wasn't sure what it might be, but the buzzing in the back of his head was demanding attention. He stared into the dryad's eyes, seeking to understand what the youth was hiding.

With a dignified gesture, Peter reached out his right hand and touched Fiz's sword. Bowing his head, he held the position for a moment before withdrawing his hand.

"I accept your offer of service Ser Ashe. And thank you for the service you have already provided."

A sharply exhaled breath drew Peter's attention back to his sister. Instead of meeting his questioning look, Susan turned to the Naiad.

"Arisumae, would you show Tiaana and Jaevyan around the glade? There is something I must discuss with my brother."

The naiad gathered up the other guests and led them off on a tour of the dryad town. With the others gone, Susan took Peter's hand.

"Brother," she gripped his hand firmly as she spoke. " I have agreed to accept courtship from Fisrahd Ashe."

"WHAT?!" Peter's free hand dropped to his sword hilt.

Eyes wide, the male dryad backpedaled away from Peter. His expression clearly begging to know what Susan thought she was doing. Peter suddenly understood why he had been so nervous.

"With Orieus as witness, I have formally agreed to his courtship." Susan continued.

Peter watched as Susan shot the redheaded dryad a look that clearly said 'stand still'.

Peter felt his face turned bright red. Grinding his jaw, he struggled to bring his emotions under control. He watched her clutch at her stomach.

Strangely, all of the nervousness seemed to have left Fisrahd. With a swift movement, the young dryad's hand dropped to the hilt of his sword and gripped it firmly.

A sharp intake of breath by Susan drew Peter's attention. Fear clearly showing in her eyes, she looked past him to the young male dryad.

"F-f-fiz?" She stammered.

"The branches," he answered. His voice calm, like the silence before an earthquake.

With a roar like that of a large wave breaking upon the shore, Peter was knocked from his feet as both dryads disappeared from in front of him.

"SUSAN!"


	23. Opportunity

**A/N:** To steal a quote from one of my writing inspirations: Hello, Old Friends! Well, as you are all aware, this chapter has been a bit delayed. My beloved beta-reader had some rather intense events going on in her life over the last six weeks (moving, exams, moving, etc) and wasn't able to concentrate properly on giving this chapter her full attention. Quality over quantity is my watchword, so I exercised patience (and explored a couple of different pastures) while she got re-organized. I especially want to thank everyone who currently has this story as a 'favorite' or an 'alert'. (There are 21 of you so forgive me for not naming you all). Remember, Please, please, please review!

**Opportunity**

_1_

'Don't scream,' Fiz's mind yelled.

Tree limbs whipping sharply past her exposed arms, ground flowing beneath her feet like flowing rapids, Susan squashed the urge to give voice to her fear and outrage. The sharp pain in her gut faded to a dull pressure. She tried to yell to her companion. To reassure him she was okay, but the roaring wind ripped the words from her throat.

Fiz's voice continued in her head. 'They may know we are coming, but there is no sense in announcing our arrival.'

'I...' Susan clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. Calmer, she answered his thoughts. 'I'm all right.'

Susan looked towards Fiz gliding off her right shoulder and wished she hadn't. The landscape was but a blur to either side of her and she immediately felt a queasiness in the pit of her stomach. She was moving faster than she had ever moved before, even when she and Lucy had ridden Aslan across the length and breadth of Narnia the morning of the great battle.

She dared not try to un-sling her bow from where it was secured to the quiver on her back. If she were to fumble and drop it, she'd be defenseless. She would have to count on Fiz to defend her while she freed it for use.

Tearing through the foothills of the mountains just north of Lantern Waste, she caught a glimpse of bright color and blinding flashes of silver.

In a blink, they were there. Acrid smoke seared her eyes and stung in her nose. She stumbled to her knees, dropping below the gray haze that hovered above the bubbling black cauldron before her. A burning sensation along her scalp told her that the stringy branches glowing red in the fire were the fronds from her own tree. Red and yellow flames licked at the charred iron pot as the evil, boiling hiss of it's contents reached her ears.

Eyes still focused on the fire, her right hand shot around behind her back and released the bow from the catches on her quiver. She could hear Fiz's sword scraping out of its scabbard behind her. Remembering her situation, she rolled back to a crouching position. Snapping the yew-wood under her right armpit, the grip smacked into her left palm. Rising in a smooth, practiced motion, her right arm continued up and over her right shoulder. Landing among the fletches of her arrows, she snapped one up, over and strung it into firing position.

Only then did she sight down the arrow to see the dark haired young man she was aiming at.

"Edmund!?!"

_2_

As soon as the hags had lit the fire under the large cauldron, Orieus had been summoned to the outpost. When he'd seen the Minotaur gathering, he'd ordered the army to move into position for attack. There would not be a great deal of time for them to rescue Queen Susan once she arrived.

Through his glass, he watched. As Edmund raised the branches over his head, shouted something unintelligible and then shoved them into the fire, the Minotaur General turned and said something to his subordinate. Under his breath, Orieus prayed to the Lion that the King knew what he was doing.

With Edmund stationary beside the cauldron, the centaur focused his attention on the Minotaur Captain. As he faded back away from the fire, he leaned in and said something to yet a third officer. The two of them split up, circling the clearing in opposite directions and speaking to the other Minotaur.

"What are you up to, Kine?" Orieus whispered to himself.

His ruminations were distracted as suddenly there were not one, but two dryads standing by the cauldron. He raised his hand to signal the attack, but froze as he watched Susan deftly swing her bow up and take aim at her brother. At the same moment, Fisrahd snapped a sword from the scabbard by his waist.

Edmund appeared to make some kind of comment to Susan. Fiz's head snapped around and he immediately advanced on the King. The sound of Susan's voice crying out her brother's name climbed above the trees, lagging behind the action Orieus was watching unfold below.

Edmund drew his own sword, and in a flash of reflected sunlight, Fisrahd and the King crossed blades. Orieus did not understand how the lightweight blade the dryad was carried could stand up to the double-edged broadsword of his opponent, but clearly, it was a capable weapon, and competently wielded.

He could see Susan, yelling to Edmund and Fisrahd over her shoulder as she kept her bow drawn and covering the increasing number of camp denizens who were joining the crowd. Strangely, not all of those in the camp were moving toward the fight. The minotaur were slowly drifting back to the edges of the crowd. In ones and twos they were sliding backwards between the tents.

Quickly, he pointed his spyglass toward the near edge of the camp. Various creatures were craning their necks to look inward toward the developing fight. Conspicuous by their absence were the bull-men.

A tingling in both of his guts told him something advantageous was occurring.

The ring of steel clashing with steel finally climbed out of the valley, drawing his attention back to the fight. He saw Susan let fly with an arrow at a hag who'd thought to try to sneak up on her. Almost before the arrow was gone, she had the next one strung.

One thing puzzled Orieus and made him continue to stay the attack; both Edmund and Jadis were masters of the sword, yet Fiz clearly had the upper hand in the fight going on below. He watched as Edmund slowly retreated around the fire towards one of the hags.

The Narnian General took another scan of the crowd. With a delighted grin, he signaled his force to advance on the camp.

_3_

"Attack! We're under attack!"

Shouts of alarm and the dissonant cacophony of combat washed over the woods between the camp and the outpost where Lucy kept watch on the dragon's cave. At the cries, a cold shiver ran down her spine, the first hints of resistance to her immediate urge to rush in and aid her subjects.

Sudden fear of being less than who she knew herself to be latched onto her spirit and she immediately squashed all thoughts of not going to her people's aid. Looking at the fauns and badger who accompanied her at the outpost, she decided they would return to the camp and assist in the defense. Holding up her right arm, the Jackdaw, who'd perched high in one of the nearby trees, winged down and landed on her arm.

"We go," she ordered.

"My Lady, stay you must." The Jackdaw cawed.

Lucy looked sternly at the bird on her arm.

"Think first of your sister." One of the faun's added. "It's possible that this ruckus may provide the distraction you will need to get inside."

"But, we should return to help our people," she responded.

"We will!" The badger growled. "And you will get inside that cave, Milady."

Torn between her need to help those who accompanied her and her need to save her sister, Lucy agreed to the compromise. As they left, she crawled back beneath the bush, resuming her watch on the cave.

A sudden increase in the sounds of the battle indicated that the other side had apparently received reinforcements. The roar of the fight increased yet again as those from the various outposts returned to join the defense. The greater noise finally seemed to penetrate the cave as the volume of smoke pouring forth doubled and then doubled again. The thin trickle she'd watched now belched as dark and black as the smoke from a dwarf's furnace.

With a rock shattering roar, the curtain of smoke was ripped asunder by the irate dragon charging from the bowels of the cave. She had only a brief glimpse of the huge beast's red eyes, sweeping horns and glittering scales. Blotting out the sun, it leapt into flight, barely clearing the trees immediately over her head. Pressure, as she hadn't felt since her first swimming lesson in the Beaver's lake, made Lucy clap her hands over her ears. Great waves of air washed downward, stripping limbs and leaves from the trees and raining them around and onto Lucy's hiding place.

With a roaring scream, the dragon wheeled toward the fight taking place in the deep woods behind Lucy.

With a squawk, the Jackdaw shook itself loose of the debris piled around the Queen.

"No safe place for a bird, this is," it cawed.

Lucy clawed her way out from under the fallen limbs and branches and staggered to her feet. She could hear the fear filled cries from the woods as both sides reacted to the dragon's arrival. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she sprinted for the mouth of the smoldering cave.

_4_

Behind the bars Jadis had erected in his mind, Edmund felt his face pulled into a leer. As the two dryads appeared by the cauldron, the Lion that Jadis thought she was protecting herself from rubbed against the bars and growled. Within this carefully crafted corner of his mind, Edmund could grin freely as he awaited the right opportunity.

The echo of Susan's cry still bounced off the valley walls as Jadis spoke using his voice.

"So, away from your brothers for only three weeks and the queen has a paramour."

Susan's drawn arrow didn't waver from his chest, in spite of her recognition of him.

"How dare you insult her!" Fiz shouted, leaping between them with drawn sword.

Edmund felt his sword arm whip upward and parry the male dryad's blow.

"Fiz, don't hurt him!" Susan shouted. "It's my brother, he's been ensorcelled."

"Oh no Fiz, don't hurt me. Susan wouldn't forgive you if you hurt me." Edmund heard Jadis say.

Blades locked together between them, they clawed at the fingers on the other's hilt as each struggled to disarm their opponent.

Susan turned, sweeping her arrow around the circle.

"Which of you has done this?" she yelled.

He heard Meertz's laughter and watched as Susan spun to aim at her.

"Silly dryad," the hag chuckled evilly. "No one here has done anything to your poor, dear brother. He did this to himself."

Jadis broke contact with Fiz's sword with a shove that caused the dryad to stumble several steps backward.

"Oh yes." Jadis used his voice again. "He was quite willing to make a deal with me for your sake, little queen."

He felt Jadis lift his sword and begin swinging it in a complicated and hypnotic dance.

Edmund heard the realization in Susan's voice.

"Jadis."

"Not exactly one of his more shining moments." He felt Jadis pull his face into a grin.

The swinging sword snaked outwards and was barely deflected by the male dryad.

Fiz counterattacked, weaving his rapier inward through the swinging blade. Edmund felt his blade make contact as the ring of steel on steel echoed across the valley.

Watching the fight develop from his detached perspective, he gauged the dryad's abilities and was impressed. For days now, every since he had been unable to locate the vial in Meertz's tent and realized that she kept it with her, he'd allowed Jadis control of his body. He'd spent hours carefully resisting her, letting her believe that he wasn't strong enough to chase her from control.

Since the beginning of the fight, he had been subtly dulling Jadis' ability to control his body. Now, as he and the dryad battled their way around the cauldron he saw the right opportunity.

Fiz stabbed at him with the rapier and Jadis skillfully glissaded the attack, entwining their blades and drawing the two of them into close proximity.

In that moment of distraction, Edmund unleashed his carefully planned attack. The Lion roared, the bars dissolved and the full fury of his personality charged forth. With the Lion in the vangard, the witch was overwhelmed. In the blink of an eye, Jadis was walled off and sealed in a small corner of his mind.

A corner guarded by the radiant golden Lion.

"Don't stop fighting me," he whispered urgently to the young dryad.

Startled, Fiz stepped backward, disengaging from the lock. Unsure, he held his blade warily between them.

Edmund rolled his eyes and attacked Fiz viciously, forcing him to defend himself. At the end of the wild exchange, their blades were once again entangled.

"Jadis is no longer in charge," Edmund whispered through unmoving lips.

"Susan says prove it," the dryad hissed back.

This time, Edmund disengaged. He saw Susan watching him from the corner of her eyes as she covered the hags. On seeing his look, her eyes hardened. Nodding to him, she flicked her face toward the dryad. As Fiz went on the attack, Ed puzzled over how the dryad was able to talk to his sister and how he could convince her. Jadis was in his head, there was nothing he could say that would convince Susan that the witch wasn't in charge.

Distracted, he realized that Fiz had managed to lock blades with him again and they were drawing close enough again to speak.

"Are you worthy?" Fiz asked as their bodies bumped together.

Edmund blinked. Worthy? Worthy of what? He realized that Susan was staring at him. He had to answer soon or the Hags were going to take advantage of her distraction. He didn't want to watch her die.

Die.

Aslan.

He remembered his speech at the stone table. His shoulders slumped.

"No," he mumbled. "No, I'm not worthy."

Fiz pushed Edmund backward, as he stumbled, he saw a hag break free from the circle and charge at Susan. Susan's head snapped around, followed immediately by her bow. With a twang, she released the arrow she'd been holding ready. Before the heart-shot hag hit the ground, Susan already had the next arrow knocked and drawn.

"You think you're worthy of a Queen? Maybe, once I've dispatched you, we'll find out. Who knows, you might make a nice throne!" Edmund sneered.

Fiz's eyes widened and he went into a vicious attack that Edmund was able to easily counter. Once again they were close enough to talk.

"Follow my lead and keep up the fight. We can't escape without the vial around Meertz's scrawny neck." Edmund hissed. "We also need her alive."

As the fight continued, he noticed that the Minotaur had disappeared. Only General Kine was still there. Ed watched as the bull allowed the growing crowd of hags to separate him from the fight. Ed smiled. Maybe there was some hope for them after all.

Continuing to whisper instructions to Fiz, he slowly guided the fight around the circle. He noted that Susan was pacing them, keeping Fiz's back covered as the fight progressed. As he and Fiz orbited each other, he could get glimpses of Meertz gleefully watching the battle. In her right hand he could see the pouch that she'd told Jadis contained dryad sleeping powder.

Timing was going to be critical. They had to get the vial and capture her without letting her use the powder on either Fiz or Susan.

Edmund measured the distance as he winked at Meertz and moved to obviously guide Fiz toward the Hag.

Performing a complicated swing, Ed reached out and tapped Fiz's right shoulder with his blade.

At the signal, Fiz's eyes narrowed and he looked past the right side of Edmund's head. Ed could see that he was focusing on his real target.

Fiz's attack was the most vicious yet. Edmund felt as if he really were being driven backward by the ferocity of his blade work. All too soon, he felt himself bump into the hag. He could feel her eagerness as her hand moved upward with the small pouch. Moving his blade to block a blow, he 'bumped' her hand with his elbow and heard the pouch hit the ground with a thump.

He felt Meertz lean over to pick up the pouch as he side stepped a stab by the dryad. As Fiz drew back his sword. Edmund turned and swung his blade in an upward motion, stopping it at the foul creature's neck.

The hag's pallid appearance paled even further as she registered the presence of Edmund's blade against her throat.

Indicating the vial dangling from the pommel of Fiz's sword, Edmund grinned as he spoke to the hag.

"You know Meertz, you appear to be missing something."

Her eyes focused on the thong swinging gaily from the dryad's sword. Fury returned the color to her face and then deepened it.

"I'll see you dead for this." She sneered through her clenched jaw.

Cries broke from the edge of the camp as Orieus lead the Narnian Army towards his Sovereigns.

"I think not, hag," Edmund answered. "You see, when you mess with one of us..."

Susan came up and grabbed his arm.

"You have to answer to all of us."


	24. A Girls Best Friends

**A/N:** _Straitjackit, Straitjackit. Whereforeart thou Straitjackit._ My usual beta reader has had some issues interfere with her ability to beta my rough drafts. I hope she won't be mad at me for recruiting some temporary (and I mean that 'Jackit! I want you back on the job!) replacements. Please thank Petraverd and E.C.Peters(Squeaklebeep) for stepping in and helping me get this piece ready for you! Great work guys! And now... _CURTAIN!_ On with the show.

**A Girl's Best Friends**

_1_

Eyes watering, Lucy braced herself against the wall of the cave. Great rasping wheezes racked her lungs. Bent over double she coughed violently, trying to expel the dragon-smoke from her chest. Near the floor, the air was clearer. Cool air coursed through her raw throat and she was finally able to catch her breath from the sprint across the field and the coughing fit. Reaching inside her tunic, she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the tears from her eyes.

Muted cries from the battle in the woods and the outraged screams of the dragon penetrated past the sound of her thundering heartbeat. Quartering the handkerchief, she held it over her mouth and nose, taking care to breath shallowly of the rank atmosphere. The raised stitching of the embroidered 'T' rubbed against her cheek as she gazed into the black maw of the cave. Smoke drifting from within obscured her view of the cave's ceiling where the occasional stalactite stumps stuck through the haze like great, broken teeth. Along the floor, only low, rounded mounds marked where great stalagmites had once stood. Deeply scored ruts marked the path on which the dragon entered and exited its lair. Moving slowly forward, she passed from the hazy, sunlit entrance through ever-deepening shades of gray, into the inky blackness of the cavern.

To keep her way in the wide, dark tunnel, she stayed near the left wall. Her fingers traced across stone worn smooth as river pebbles by years of being scraped by diamond hard dragon scales. Wet stone met her hand in in the darkness and a step later she found herself collapsing to the floor as her feet shot out from under her. With a cry, she slid across the slick floor and into the pool gathered in the nearest rut.

"I should have brought a torch." She muttered, her voice hoarse and raspy from the smoke. "Or a lamp."

Peeling herself out of the puddle, she crawled back to the side wall. Moving beyond the wet area, Lucy carefully returned to her feet and continued her journey inward. Concern furrowed her brow. Was she still heading the proper direction? Did the cave branch off into a dead end? Flickers of movement flirted at the corners of her vision as her eyes strained to see. Drips echoed in her ears like footsteps. Near the ceiling, water pushed a pebble free from a narrow crack. The small stone striking the floor resounded off the walls like the warning bell hung in the highest tower of Cair Paravel.

On the verge of turning back, she spied a slight glint of light in the distance. Looking over her shoulder, any reassuring light from the entrance was long since lost beyond the many twists the cavern had taken.

Continuing forward, the smoke thinned as the light grew. She found herself standing on the edge of a chamber almost as far across as the width of the entire castle at Cair Paravel. Through a fissure in the ceiling, sunlight fanned downward through the rising gray smoke.

"Oh my!" Lucy's eyes widened and her heart raced as she looked out over the dragon's horde.

Were it not for the smoke, she would have been blinded as the light bounced, sparkled and reflected off of the vast treasure the great beast had gathered there. Scorched tapestries shared space with soot stained fine armor. Large piles of jewelry and gemstones were more like small hills. Fine marble and bronze statues shared the floor with garish and misshapen golden figures, crusted in coins and precious stones.

Stepping closer, she looked into the face of one of the odd statues. In spite of it's unfinished appearance, the work's face bore a look of unmistakable pain and terror. Turning from the disturbing visage, she scanned the chamber. There seemed to be little rhyme or reason to how the beast stored his goods. Bars of silver sat atop marble pedestals. Statues stood knee, waist and neck deep in assorted coins. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires and diamonds lay scattered across the great gold and silver mottled mounds.

The simple, wooden box she sought could be buried deep beneath one of the piles, or the dragon could have torched it unintentionally. Disheartened by the volume of what she had to search, her shoulders slumped. "How am I ever going to find what I need in here?"

Deep in her mind, a golden figure paced.

'Aslan does not set impossible tasks.' It growled.

Shaking off the daunting nature of the search, Lucy moved further into the chamber. Carefully, she searched among the great piles, seeking the simple wooden box. Every gigantic drawer she opened, every lid she lifted only revealed more glittering gold. Surrounded by such riches, she ceased to see it as anything of value. Climbing over an unsteady mound of silver bars, she opened a large chest, full to overflowing with nothing but icy clear diamonds. Her face etched with a disappointed frown, she carelessly let the lid slam closed.

Frustrated, her spine sore from bending to look into low spaces, Lucy stretched out then bent over backwards, relishing the sensation as the muscles of her back realigned themselves.

In the middle of rolling her head about her shoulders, she froze, staring at a small alcove high up on the far wall. Cocking her head, she looked harder. There, just above a mountain of gold looked to be a wooden box.

Followed by the bright jingle of shifting precious metals, she scrambled across the chamber. Energized by the certainty that the alcove held the object of her quest, Lucy climbed the great pile of treasure, not noticing the great cascades of coins flowing down behind her. At the top, she could just reach her hands over the ledge. Grabbing the stone with one hand she stretched to reach the what she had seen from below. Getting a finger on the wooden box, she slid it out of the shadows. There, on the face towards her was the image of the Great Tree she had been told to look for. With a grin, she released her grip on the stone ledge so as to grab the box with both hands.

As she let go, Lucy felt her feet shift. Her movement caused the mound to collapse from beneath her faster. Lunging upward, she made a last, desperate swipe to grab the box, but missed.

Hot tears of frustration scored the grime on her cheeks as the mix of gold coins and other objects carried her away in a glistening metal avalanche.

_2_

The young king's piercing gaze once more raked across the distance. Susan watched as it again speared her dryad companion.

"Brother?" The single word carried both Susan's query and the threat of her wrath.

Edmund pulled his eyes away from Fiz. Any remaining doubts Susan had as to who was in control inside her brother's head were squashed by that very familiar worried look.

"What is the story with this boy who's tagging about with you?" Edmund's eyes narrowed and again darted towards Fiz.

Susan looked down toward the head of her horse. The steady pace of the party seemed glacial when she compared it to the speed of her journey northward. Susan carefully fingered the vial dangling from the thong around her neck. Jadis' blood. So much evil, yet necessary if she was to become human again. Fiz had made a small show out of handing it to her when Edmund had reached for it.

She looked over to the young dryad riding on the opposite side of her brother. Did she really want to be human again? To remain a tree. A dryad? For all of his grandiose dreams of adventure, Fisrahd seemed happy with his life. Dryad's had great powers, yet could she be content with the restrictions? Rooted to the land?

She remembered the wistful look that had crossed Tiaana's face the time she had invited the apothecary to go sailing. The cherry tree dryad had explained how, as creatures of the earth, her people were unable to venture over the broad waters to the east.

Could she give up the joy of sailing upon Narnia's wondrous seas?

She thought of Fiz and Lisi, dreaming of what they knew they were unable to do. Sailing east to Aslan's country, in search of the Great Lion.

"Ed." Susan took a deep breath before pinning her brother's eyes. "Aslan chose him for me. To be my tutor, my guide to this strange and wonderful life I've been blessed to experience."

Swaying in time with the stride of his mount, Edmund reached out to take his sister's hand.

Susan looked into a face that she knew would never be ready for what she was about to say. "And maybe, for something more."

She watched the dark haired young man stiffen in his saddle. Refusing to relinquish her grip on his hand, she pulled him closer. A longing ache swelled in her chest as continued.

"I have chosen him, dear brother. As a friend, a protector, and courtier. There is much of you and Peter in his spirit."

She reached out into her link with Fiz and commanded that he join them in their conversation.

"Susan? What are you doing?" Fiz looked at her sidelong then turned to her brother.

Edmund's eyes were narrowed and his expression deadly serious as he gave the young dryad a more serious and appraising look. A smile tugged at Susan's lips when she saw that Fiz did not flinch from the inspection.

"Something of Peter and myself in this one?" Ed asked.

"Well, he's sensitive, smart, skilled, and insufferably overprotective." Her thin smile broke open and beamed as she delivered the last line.

Grinning mischievously, she nudged her horse towards Edmund's. The King's horse shied towards the one the dryad was riding.

"So Ed, you know Fiz can fight!" She challenged.

At the lilting tone in her voice, both men focused their attention fully on her.

"So I don't think you'll be able to kill or scare off my suitor, out of hand." She said to the two of them, her eyes sparkling. "I really would like for the two of you to know each other."

_3_

'I've been incredibly lucky.' Orieus thought.

The centaur looked ahead to the prisoner mounted on one of the pack animals from Edmund's party. Orieus had done Meertz's bindings himself. Shackles laced with the strongest magic he could muster to prevent her escaping. She could be tricky. The King had ordered her muzzled after she had nearly escaped by bewitching a guard with her voice.

Looking ahead, he watched as Susan pushed Edmund towards Fiz. It was clear from the set of the King's shoulders that he had been informed of the Dryad's relationship with his sister.

"Oh, my Queen, I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said quietly.

Nodding to the guards, he cantered to catch up to his Sovereigns.

As he moved closer to them, Susan dropped back to ride beside him.

"Milady, is it wise to set them at each other already?" He asked.

He could see the concern etched in her face as she turned to answer him.

"The sooner this issue is confronted, the sooner it is conquered, General." She reached a hand out and rested it on his shoulder. Orieus noted how cool it felt against his skin.

Susan slouched in her saddle, her head and shoulders hanging lose.

"Are you well, Your Majesty?" He asked.

"I am further from my tree than I have ever been." She straightened her posture and looked to the ground in front of her mount. "It is a strain to maintain my strength, but the closer we return to the grove, the better I will feel."

"I could call a halt, if you desire to rest." The General offered.

"No. We should keep moving." Susan replied.

A cry from the arguing pair ahead of them drew their attention.

"No! No I don't think I'm worthy of her!" Fiz yelled at Edmund, drawing both Orieus and Susan's attention. "But she does! And as long as that is true, I will strive and fight against myself and all outside forces to live up to that expectation."

Edmund rolled back in his saddle, shocked at the vehemence of Fiz's reaction to the question.

"He has true greatness within him." Susan whispered to Orieus. "I've felt it off and on since I met him. Great events will move in his shadow."

She laughed lightly as the next words drifted back to her.

"And couching your questions in not so subtle Tree Puns!" Fiz continued. "I'll say you were _out on a limb_!"

"Whoa, I did not intend for any kind of pun to be made of that statement!" Edmund responded.

Fiz looked at him, incredulous. "Sure you didn't. You've been barking questions at me every since Susan pushed us together!"

Ed's eyes crossed at the Dryad's words. "Oh, and listening to you pine for your home grove is supposed to reassure me?"

Fisrahd's skin turned a bright gold as his red hair stood up from his head. "PINE!?! I'll have you know I am an Ash!"

"Well you threw BARK at me!" Ed replied.

Susan and Orieus both laughed heartily at the interplay.

With a deadly serious expression, Fiz leaned in close to the King. "There is a Very important reason for getting back to the grove as quickly as possible!" With a glance backward at Orieus and Susan, he lowered his voice below their hearing.

"I do believe that they're going to be okay together." Susan said.

"I'm more worried now that they are _dangerous_ together, Milady." The centaur replied.

As he chortled at his own joke, he looked towards his companion.

Instead of the laughter he expected from his Queen, her eyes opened wide. The green tone of her skin flushed away, leaving her a pale ivory color. Soundless,she tried to mouth his name.

A moment later, she collapsed sideways, off her horse and into his arms.

_4_

The cascade of gold and silver coins continued to pour down the side of the mound. Icy cold metal landed against Lucy's exposed neck and arms, gluing itself to her with the sweat from her exertions. Her struggles to get free of the mound caused more of the coin to fall and she was barely able to keep her head above the flow.

A series of clangs above her were punctuated by a large cauldron sliding against the back of her neck. The continuing flow pushed the pot over her head and flipped it down cutting off her light. The rattle of coins ringing against the iron vessel reached a deafening crescendo then faded to a thin whisper.

The weight of the treasure pressed in on her from all sides. She could feel the coins being forced into the gap between her armor and her tunic and even underneath the tunic. She shivered as a cold, metal coin worked it's way through her collar and slid down her back. A low rumble of sound floated through the pile. More coins rattled against the pot, then stopped. Another thrum, and another high pitched stream of ringing metal.

'Oh no,' Lucy thought. 'The dragon is returning.'

She ceased her struggles to escape from under the coins as the great, winged lizard entered the treasure cave.

"Piratess. Alwayss after what iss mine." A low voice hissed. "But the otherss. That flag. I remember that flag."

Lucy could hear the beast moving about the cavern. Then it stopped, and there was a loud sniffing.

"Ssomething'ss not right."

The dragon snuffling sounded so much like that of an over-sized beagle that Lucy had to squash the urge to laugh. After the brief respite from the seriousness of her situation, she noticed that the air under the cauldron was getting stale.

The sniffing dragon moved closer to her.

"Ssomeone iss here."

The dragon began pawing at the mound of gold that Lucy was buried within. She could feel the weight of it shifting about her. The cauldron above her head shifted and settled on her shoulders. A coin, breaking from the pot, fell against the top of her head.

Slowly, dust drifted down and around in front of her face. She couldn't see it, but when it reached her nose, she instantly knew it was there.

Closing her eyes, Lucy tried to stifle the urge to sneeze by breathing slowly and deeply.

Cold metal clung to her sweaty throat. Slowly, pressure built, pressing upward from within. Suddenly, the incoming air stopped. Her eyes shot open as she clamped her jaw shut against the inevitable. With a massive shudder her entire body shook.

"HICCUP!"

Unable to help herself, Lucy's hiccups echoed under the iron cauldron.

As she continued to hiccup uncontrollably, things under the pile began to get warmer and warmer. Finally able to open her eyes, she saw a dull red glow before her. Blinking, it didn't go away.

She thought of the strange golden, coin encrusted statues that she'd past on entering the chamber and knew she had to do something.

"Please!" She shouted. "In the name of Aslan, I beg you to stop."

"Asslan! What know you of Asslan?" The dragon rumbled.

Light assailed her eyes and she squinted them shut as the Dragon pried the cauldron from over her head. Taking deep, gasping breaths, she tried to recover her wits. Slowly opening her eyes, she could see where the dragon's breath had melted the outermost layer of coins into a single sheet, except for immediately around where the pot had covered her.

Trapped, Lucy looked up into her captor's large red eyes. Smoke curled menacingly from his nostrils and a flicker of flame licked out behind his tongue. The dark scales of his face framed long, sharp, white teeth. The scales to either side of his eyes were a lighter, gray color. Everything else about him was blocked from her view by the mass of his head.

"Sspeak pirate. What would you know of Asslan?"

Lucy's eyes flared. "I am no pirate."

Swinging his great neck, the dragon's head stopped within feet of her prison and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Who then, might you claim to be, girl?" The beast grumbled.

Under the weight of metal, she squared her shoulders and focused firmly on the creature's eyes.

"I am Lucy, Queen of Narnia."


	25. Tea, With a Dragon

**A/N:** Happy Birthday! Seriously, this story is 1 year old today! The prologue was originally posted on 6/6/2006. One year of great new friends, strange changes and lots of writing. Yay! 'Jackit's back! She and Petraverd tag teamed on me with 'Descriptive'. Seven more to go! Please remember to review!

**Tea, With a Dragon**

_1_

Under the bright, afternoon sun, Fiz's golden skin suddenly paled and his head whipped around. As he spun his horse on its haunches, one anguished word escaped his lips.

"Susan!"

"Where are you going? We're not finished here..." Edmund trailed off as he looked past the dryad's horse and saw Orieus lowering his sister gently to the ground.

"Your Majesty!" The general yelled. "She... she just, collapsed!"

Their argument forgotten, Edmund spurred his mount after the dryad's.

One of Orieus' Lieutenants let loose a shrill whistle. Immediately there was a chaos of movement as the company took up a defensive posture around the queen's position.

Immersed in the confusion, Fiz reigned in alongside the centaur and leapt from his saddle. Edmund, a mere step behind, could see the look of intense concentration as the dryad reached out and took Susan's hand in his.

Jumping from his own horse, the King reached out to Susan's other hand. Her cold, dry skin did nothing to alleviate his concern. Ed stared at the linked hands of the two dryads. Slowly, beginning at her wrist, Susan's color seemed to improve.

The General stepped back, his ears twitching at every rustle from the surrounding hills. A faun leaned in offering a canteen of water, which Fiz rejected.

"What's..." Edmund cleared his throat, his voice hadn't cracked like that in years. "What's wrong with her?"

Strained and very pale, Fiz looked up at Susan's worried brother.

"She's too far away from her tree and too inexperienced to be able to maintain her strength." Fiz answered.

A deep frown creased the dryad's forehead as he turned to the General. "How long before we reach the grove?"

"At least three days, Ser Ashe." Orieus replied.

"Too long." A weary tremor shook Fiz's body and he closed his eyes.

Raising the queen's hand, clasped in his own, he grabbed Edmund by the shoulder. "I'm sharing my strength with her, but if I give her enough strength to be awake, I'll be exhausted in hours."

A wild, fearful look crept into the Dryad's eyes. "Your Majesty, I can only hold her at this level for a day at most."

Edmund could feel the hot blood flooding into his cheeks. His eyes hardened as he looked at the dryad. "So you'll let my sister die?!"

"NO!" The word ripped from Fiz's throat in a pained wail. He took a deep breath. "If she doesn't live, I have no reason to. Every ounce of my strength is hers, but for it to do any good, we have to get her back to her tree."

With a nervous rocking across his four hooves, Orieus stared off to the south, as if he could summon Susan's tree by the force of his will. "If we rode straight through we might make it in two days, but she would need to be able to ride."

Tears formed in Fiz's eyes and the knuckles on his hand whitened. "Not soon enough." The quiet, flat tone giving voice to words he would not say. Susan and he would both die.

Furious at his impotence to help his sister, Ed gripped the dryad by the shoulders and shook. "Is there nothing else we can do? Can we send for a Dryad healer?"

Fiz looked up into Edmund's frightened eyes. The King could see the dryad's despair, and his willingness to sacrifice himself to save Susan.

"Your Maj... Edmund, all dryads are heal..." The dull light in the dryad's eyes suddenly brightened.

With renewed vigor, the Dryad shouted. "General Orieus, send out scouts. Find a willow tree, preferably a dryad home, but a plain one will do. Meanwhile, we need to make best possible speed back to the grove."

With the sharp edge of hope in his voice, Orieus saluted the Dryad. "By Aslan's grace, it _will_ be done."

_2_

Sporadic gurgles rumbled deep in the huge beast's throat as it leaned in close to the melted pile.

"Queen of Narnia!" Puffs of acrid gray smoke escaped in time with his laughter.

Blowing a thicker cloud around the trapped girl, he flicked out with his tongue. Its rough surface brushing against the skin of her face.

"Narnia iss ruled by a witch!" The dragon recoiled, fading to an outline in the haze, punctuated by two glowing yellow eyes. "You tasste human, child."

In the back of her mind, Lucy could see a faun asking if she was a beardless dwarf.

"I am human!" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Immediately, the acrid air attacked her lungs. She coughed violently.

When the fit subsided, she could feel tears welling, desperate to wash the soot from her eyes. Her nose too, was beginning to run.

Hoarse, Lucy continued. "Narnia is ruled by my brothers, sister and myself. Jadis is dead."

In the haze, the eyes blinked. Ponderously, the great head resolved itself out of the smoke.

"What doess one azz young azz you know of death." The dragon's voice rumbled.

Loose coins pushed upward and skittered over the melted edge as Lucy squared her shoulders and stood straighter under the pile. Clearing her throat, she focused her eyes on the scale covered face before her.

"I was there when Aslan sacrificed himself. Jadis bewitched my brother Edmund. She considered him a traitor for returning to our side. Aslan offered himself in my brother's place."

More tears rolled down Lucy's cheeks, but this time they had nothing to do with the smoke. She took a ragged breath. "Susan and I both turned away. We couldn't watch as the Witch plunged that obsidian blade into his heart."

The dragon recoiled. The loud ring of coins echoed through the cave as the mound behind him collapsed.

"Asslan'ss dead?" The beast hissed.

Lucy froze at the mournful note that underlay the winged lizard's words.

"He was," Lucy looked up and smiled, "but he's not anymore."

The dragons eyes flared and small curls of flame trickled from the corners of his mouth. "Asslan iss either dead or he iss not. Which iss it?"

The gravelly edge to the voice caused her teeth to vibrate.

Buoyed by the joy of the news she shared, Lucy's smile grew larger. "With dawn's arrival, the stone table cracked and Aslan returned to us. The deep magic, and Jadis' stranglehold on the existence of Narnia, were shattered."

The dragon narrowed his eyes. "Broken!? That table hass sstood ssincsse the time of King Frank." Outrage and skepticism warred within his voice.

Lucy's eyes narrowed as she looked at the dragon. 'How long do dragons live? Could this be the same one who consumed King Elgyn's party?'

"For a Terebinthian dragon, you know an awful lot about Narnia and her former rulers." The Queen challenged. "Who are you to have such knowledge?"

With a loud crack, the dragon's wings snapped open. In a single sweep, the smoke cleared from around her and she was able to see the entire beast for the first time. The near black scales around his face blended into a dark green along his belly and a rich bronze along his back. Sunlight spiking through the hole in the ceiling glittered off his scales, brighter than any of the treasure in the room.

Rearing on his hind legs, the dragon unleashed an impressive string of fire out the hole. Fresh air roared in from the cave mouth while the bugling voice of the beast trumpeted.

As the echo died, leaving only the ringing in Lucy's ears, he leaned his massive head in close to the girl.

"I am Elgyn!" He snarled, brilliant white teeth gleaming. "Heir to the throne of Frank the firsst. Rightful King of Narnia."

_3_

Light from the nearly full moon washed through the trees as an old willow dryad rushed up to the horse where Fiz held Susan. Bowing quickly to Edmund, she turned to the two dryads.

"I'm Siandra. The scout told me Queen Susan had need of my assistance. How can I help?"

Fiz opened his eyes and smiled. "Susan is too far from her tree. If she could form a temporary connection with yours, she might recover the strength to complete our journey."

"Of course, dearie. My, have you been holding on to her? You must be exhausted." She reached out her wrinkled arm and grabbed both of their hands.

Even in the pale moonlight, Fiz's color visibly improved. He smiled his thanks to the willow spirit as he explained Susan's situation.

"She passed out earlier today. I've been sharing just enough energy to keep her alive." He swept his free arm to encompass the entire party. "We didn't know when we might find assistance."

Siandra nodded. "Well sonny, it's better we keep her under for now. Let her wake up in my tree. Less of a shock that way."

"Let me take over that for you." She reached out to replace Fiz's hand with her own in Susan's grip. "Oh! You're bonded."

She flashed Fiz a bright smile. "Never you worry, youngster. I won't let anything happen to her."

"Bonded?" Edmund's puzzlement colored the word with question and warning.

Fiz bowed his head, mumbling. "It was the only way to guarantee that I would be there to protect her when she was summoned by the branches' destruction."

The willow stuck herself between the dryad and the man. "There will be time for this later. Fisrahd. Rest and recover your strength." Fiz leaned back on the horse and immediately fell into a doze. Even asleep, he kept a protective hand wrapped around Susan's waist to steady her.

Siandra turned to Edmund, a look of motherly concern gleaming in her eyes. "And you, Sire. You've nearly worried yourself to death. Now I'm here, she'll be fine. My tree's not far, then you're going to get some sleep."

Edmund looked to the sleeping form of the young male dryad as he whispered to the old female. "What did you mean by bonded?"

"Bonding is a means of linking the spirits of two trees. It is done as a sign of love and commitment." She looked into the King's eyes and saw the mixed flare of anger, fear and love there. "Or, of a necessity, the ritual can be performed for protection."

"Protection?" He asked.

"Young Fisrahd cares very much for Susan, more perhaps than even she realizes. He has bound himself to her." She turned her lined face, the skin reddish gray in the moonlight, toward him. Ed could see the memory and longing etched in her expression. "The binding, however, is limited, wherever she is summoned, he must follow, but the reverse is not true."

Edmund reached out a hand and lay it on Siandra's shoulder. "If I may ask, who was he?"

With a shake of her head, the expression cleared from the willow's face. "It matter's not, my Liege. He was a victim of the forces of evil in this world, as your sister is and nearly was twice over."

"My Lady, I thank your kind help for my sister." Edmund bowed to her. "I, however, won't be able to sleep until I know she is well."

A lopsided smile formed below her soft eyes as she gazed at the young king. Reaching out her free hand, she rested it on Ed's shoulder. "My dear boy. A fine King you may be, but you're only human. Take your rest Sire, Siandra will see your lovely sister is there when you awake."

She turned and looked over her shoulder towards the scout. "Hello... Er... Ragamuffin! No... Oh, I am so horrid with ephemeral names."

Chuckling, the faun trotted over. "Scout Raelon, and that is okay Milady, you help Queen Susan, and you may call me anything you wish."

"You remember the way back to my tree? Of course you do... If you would lead some on ahead to set up a camp. Your King here will be needing a place to sleep when we arrive. Oh, and there's a stream, only a few hundred yards away that runs cool and sweet. And firewood..."

"It will be taken care of Lady Siandra." General Orieus stepped up alongside her. "Raelon, gather a party to pitch the camp, we will be along presently."

She looked from the centaur over to Susan, still held in place astride the horses' back by the sleeping male dryad. The Queen's grip had closed about her hand tightly and there was no graceful way for her to release it.

A slow drift of clouds moved in front of the moon, cutting the light significantly.

"Dearie me, this is going to be awkward, but we best be on with it." Stepping off, she began leading them to her tree from alongside the horse.

Strong arms grabbed her up and before she could protest, she found herself sitting astride a great broad back. Looking forward, she found that instead of a horse, she was astride the back of the General. Her wide eyes took in the sight of a human back rising from a horse's shoulders from this strange angle.

"Oh my! This is not right. No, no, no. General, I'd rather walk than dishonor you by riding upon your back." Siandra protested.

"There is no dishonor for me Lady Siandra, for I do this in service to Queen Susan and Aslan." Orieus answered her.

"Oh, well then, if you insist." She leaned closer to his ears so as to whisper directions. "We will need to go south at a brisk walk for about fifteen minutes. Then, at the bones of an old friend... Oh, sorry, that would be a fallen maple..."

_4_

"Why. Why would a Queen of Narnia be ssearching my treassure?" The dragon's head swung down close to her again. The brief respite from the beast's smoke was over. It's return causing Lucy to have another coughing fit that devolved once more into hiccups.

"What would a Queen want with a dragonss richess?" The forked tongue flicked out around her face. Once more, all she could see of the beast was it's head and glowing eyes.

"Not the riches." She coughed in the smoke. "The box, just the box with the dried fruit."

The great lizard's eyes flickered to the niche set high in the wall above her head. A strange look came over the creature and he cocked his head, as though a voice called to him from deep within the caves.

_"__Take the box of dried fruit and cross the Binthian Plain. Climb Mount Tere, there you will watch over those whose land you crossed and await your summoning to amends."_

Remembering the line from Gidtch's story, Lucy looked up into the dragon's eyes. Eyes indescribably sad, yet unable to shed tears.

With a shake, the huge head was once again in her face. "What do you wissh with my box? What iss there, iss it for you?"

She tried unsuccessfully to blink the searing soot from her eyes. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Aslan's voice came unbidden to her mind. '_A dragon can be controlled through the wise use of the knowledge it possesses.' _Lucy looked again at the great face before her. How often had her siblings wished to be able to talk to someone who ruled, like they did. Here before her was such a being. A former King of Narnia. Something else in her mind clicked.

Struggling, she managed to work one of her hands free and up through the hole in the sheet. With the sleeve of her tunic she dabbed the tears and smoke from her eyes and wiped her runny nose.

"Lord Elgyn!" She said solemnly, slipping easily into the formal speech of the court. "I bear for you a message, from my brother, the High King Peter, and from Aslan."

The beast's eyes narrowed with suspicion. A brief flap of his wings cleared the smoke enough for the Queen to make out the hulking mass of the beast.

With a snort, he replied. "What message might that be? Conveyed, as it is, by one who did not know me before today."

Lucy bowed her head to the dragon, as formally as being trapped within a mountain of gold allowed. "On a beautiful day five years ago, these words were shared by Aslan with myself and my siblings." She locked her eyes onto the nearer of his and held his gaze. "They apply to you as well, sir, and must be shared."

Eyes narrowed, the dragon leaned in close, puffing a fresh cloud of smoke into her face. Holding her sleeve to her face, Lucy took a deep breath, her first semi-clear one since the dragon's return.

"That message is, Once a King or Queen of Narnia, Always a King or Queen of Narnia!"

The dragon rocked back on his haunches at the unexpected words. His sudden movement drew the haze from around her again. Able to breath more freely, Lucy pressed her advantage.

"King Elgyn, the time to make your amends is at hand! I summon thee to return to the service of the Lion."

With his deep grumbling chuckle raining down from the cave's ceiling, the dragon leaned again to Lucy's face. "Fine wordss, well ssaid, young Queen. But for what reasson do you want my box?"

"With your current form, you are aware that people can be changed by unexpected magics." She spoke. "My sister, Queen Susan, has been changed into a dryad through the foul machinations of the Hagarathan. We must have the dried fruit collected in that box to affect her restoration."

"Hagss!" The beast spit. "A pesstilencse we thought wiped out long ago. Yet a hundred yearss under that Witch brought much evil to my beloved home.

The dragon looked down at her for a long while. Wisely, Lucy stayed quiet while he muttered and grumbled. He reached out past her to the alcove and with a delicate claw the creature plucked the box down from it's ledge. The dragon sat for a time gazing at the tiny box in it's huge palm. The sadness returned to his eyes and his chest began to heave in great sobs. Finally, the beast's moans and sobs stopped.

"Elgyn?" Hoarse from the smoke, Lucy's quiet voice came out like gravel. "Will you help me save my sister?"

The huge head nodded slowly.

"For Narnia and for Aslan." He whispered.

With cherubic joy, Lucy smiled up at him.

Moving across the cavern, he set the box on a chest by the exit. Returning, he carefully lifted the golden shield over her head, set it to one side and then dug her out of the mound.

Once she was free, Lucy pulled out her handkerchief, blew her nose clear then dried her tearing eyes. Waving for Elgyn to lean down to her level, she kissed him on the cheek.

"For Susan." The young Queen grinned as the surprised dragon chuckled.

Biting her lower lip, Lucy looked toward the sunlight now streaming at a sharp angle through the hole in the ceiling.

"Lord Elgyn, there is another issue I need to discuss with you."

_5_

Morose, Edmund stood on a low hill and watched the wind ripple through golden grass towards him. Like waves at the shore, the rustling sway of the plants broke against the rise. As the warm breeze wrapped itself around him, a tickling sensation at the base of his skull made Ed aware of another presence.

Tears leaked from his eyes. Blinded, he looked to the ground, fearful that the beautiful place he was seeing would not be there when his vision cleared.

"I'm s-sorry." He whispered.

"For what, Son of Adam?" The quiet voice in the wind replied.

"I was weak. I gave her control over me. Again." The boy answered.

The presence in the wind wrapped itself around him. As the warm breath surrounded him, the golden glow of the fields grew brighter and blurred. Too late, he raised an arm to shield his eyes. In that moment, he thought he saw the presence shift through outlines of many different living shapes.

As the glow faded from his eyes he found himself face to face with the Great Lion, yet the image of a thin, bearded man remained impressed upon his retinas.

Head bowed with shame, the young King sat down heavily.

"I betrayed your trust in me, Aslan." Edmund removed the crown from his brow. "How can I continue to wear this, when I know I am weak?"

Aslan walked once around the despondent young monarch, then moved downhill, turned and sat, so that their heads were on the same level. His rich golden fur swaying in the wind.

"Edmund, you recall our discussion of temptation's purpose?" The Lion queried.

The boy nodded slowly. Not bothering to sweep the unrestrained dark hair from his eyes, he instead continued to roll the crown slowly through his hands.

A low growl rumbled from deep within the Great Cat's belly. Edmund started at the threatening sound.

"Tell me, Edmund." Aslan commanded quietly.

Taking a deep breath, the young King raised his sad eyes to meet those of the Lion.

"The purpose of temptation is to awaken the strength placed in our hearts to overcome it."

Shaking out his golden mane, Aslan smiled at the boy. "Continue."

"Temptation can never be stronger than one's will. For temptation to win, we must choose to let it do so." The boy took a deep breath. "But Aslan. I willingly went along with her plans and machinations. I gave myself up to her."

"No Edmund. You did what you had to. For yourself, and for Susan. You chose a path of great risk to yourself, but one that protected the others around you. You accepted the risk and you rejected the temptation." The Lion stood and moved to stand beside the monarch.

Edmund scrambled to his feet. Tentatively he reached out and twined a hand through Aslan's mane. The coarse hairs tickling and dragging against his skin, even after he touched the Lion's shoulder.

"Then tell me please, why do I feel so bad about it?" Edmund asked.

Ed once more felt the warm breath on his face as the Lion turned to face him. "Because you did not understand the nature of what you faced, you misinterpreted the intention. Now that you know that nature, and now that you know your strength to overcome temptation, you will feel the joy I feel in your accomplishment."

The Lion turned so he was facing away from the sun. "Edmund, there is something I want you to see."

Ed turned and looked in the direction of Aslan's gaze. In the distance, he could just see what appeared to be a purple ridge. "What am I looking for, Aslan?"

With a chuckle, Aslan replied. "Open your eyes."

In the dark confines of his tent, Edmund's eyes opened. Silhouetted against the moonlight glowing through the tent wall, he could just make out the shape of the Lion. He sat up straight on his cot.

"Aslan?" The young King exclaimed.

With a quiet laugh, the Great Lion moved closer to him.

"Shh. Son of Adam, you are forgiven. No one but us need know of our discussion. Now return to sleep." Aslan replied.


	26. Queens' Journeys

**A/N:** Greetings everyone. Well, in the middle writing this, Harry Potter 7 fever had to strike:) My apologies for the delay in getting this chapter out. Once again, my regular beta has been incommunicado, so many many thanks to Petraverd for stepping in to fill her shoes! May the changes live up to your expectations! Six more to go!

**Queens' Journeys**

_1_

Golden sunlight warmed the upper crown of the tree. The large willow tree drank in that heat, funneling it through its vast fiber network. As it reached the tree's core, a presence there stirred.

With a yawn, Susan stretched herself out into the tree. As had become her morning habit, she reached out to sense the little wren in her upper boughs. Unconsciously, she bumped up against the limits of the physical tree, steered into the limbs much as a log is guided by the waters of a stream.

Strangely, the bird wasn't there. Puzzled, and still muddled by sleep, she pushed farther outward into the tree, but things became even more odd. Limbs weren't where they were supposed to be, and the willow itself felt much larger.

"Wh... Where am I." She mumbled.

Pressure formed along her back and she sensed another dryad within the tree.

'Fiz?' She thought.

'Oh, no dearie. I'm Siandra. You and that nice young Ash were near at the end of your roots when I got there.' The old willow dryad replied cheerfully.

'Is he...' Susan started, panic rising within her.

'I'm fine, My Little Willow.' Fiz sent down the link. 'Your brother and a guest asked me to breakfast. When you're ready, please join us.'

Relaxing, Susan concentrated on the female dryad sharing the tree with her. She could feel the other Siandra's strength. Warm, like Fiz's, but in a motherly way. Wise and powerful, yet very very tender.

'I promised your bondmate, and that lovely brother of yours that you would return to them, fit from twig to stem, sweetie.' The kindly dryad chattered. 'Worried, they were, what with you collapsing like that, and so far from your own tree.'

Susan smiled as the old willow rattled on.

'I was talking to General Orieus, and... and then I don't remember anything else.' Susan sent.

She felt a warm sensation along her spine and shoulders and she immediately thought of the many occasions when she, herself, had wrapped a sick or sleepy Lucy in a blanket.

'Oh, you just lost contact with your tree for a bit. Nothing I couldn't fix right up,' Siandra explained.

Susan could feel the smile radiating from the dryad and smiled in return.

'Now dearie, I've linked you with my own tree, and I've reached out to yours as well. Once you're back on the trail, you shouldn't have any trouble maintaining your strength. Now, what say we join the men at their breakfast?'

Puzzled, Susan blinked. 'Breakfast? Fiz had said breakfast too.' She suddenly realized that she hadn't eaten in nearly a month. Not since the evening before she'd become a dryad. Memory of the taste of Lucy's cake washed through her, followed closely by the heady flavor of the wine they drank with dinner at Cair Paravel. She could feel her mouth water as the parade of flavors and sensations rolled through her mind. Food! And she hadn't even realized she was missing it. Though the sensation of wanting food in her mouth remained, the other dryad's voice pulled the Queen back from her reverie.

'Oh, purely a courtesy. The King, after all, is _only_ human,' Siandra chuckled.

Her mirth at Edmund's limited perspective washed away Susan's melancholy recollection and the younger dryad found herself giggling along.

Laughing, the two dryads stepped out of the large, knarled willow tree. Falling silent, Susan reached out and patted the trunk. Its bole as much larger around than her own tree as her willow was to the arrows from her quiver. Looking up, she admired it's great leafy crown. Turning, she saw that the tree sat by itself on the crest of a small knoll. In the distance she could hear the gurgle of a stream, but nearer, surrounding the tree, were the tents of the Narnian Army.

"Thank you Siandra. For your assistance and your kindness." Susan said humbly.

The old willow gave her a modest nod. "Yer welcome, dearie. Shall we join your brother?"

Following her nose, she traced the smell of bacon and toast toward the edge of the encampment. Stepping around the tents, she was momentarily blinded by the brilliant golden sunrise. Eyes tearing, she tried to blink her vision clear. She could hear the low voices of conversation coming from ahead.

As she advanced, she began to be able to make out shapes against the great purple afterimage. A table, with two human sized figures to one side, and two larger figures on the other. All of the voices were familiar, but she couldn't place the second large figure. Striding closer, she blinked furiously. The conversations ahead came to an abrupt halt.

"Susan!" Edmund and Fiz yelled together.

She could hear the relief and joy as Ed's baritone and Fiz's tenor voices twined and harmonized around her name.

Smiling, and still blinking furiously, she turned towards the two smaller figures that were clearly running toward her.

Shaking the tears from her eyes, she reached out and grabbed them both. "Have the two of you come to an understanding?"

"Oh, we've discovered that our interests branch out in similar directions." Ed intoned mischievously, his warm, sword calloused hands taking her left elbow.

With a low groan, Fisrahd took her right arm. "Are you okay, Susan."

She raised her right hand and lay it against the cool skin of his cheek.

"I was so anxious to see you two that I let myself get caught off guard by the sun when we came around that last tent. I'll be fine in a moment." She answered.

One of the larger presences moved nearer, as he stepped between her and the sun, she could make out General Orieus' features.

"Your Majesty, it is good to see you well. I must be off to organize the camp for departure." Bowing, he excused himself from the table.

Before he could leave, she grabbed his arm and pulled his torso down for a hug.

"General, I have not been appreciative enough of your service to my family. I am honored to consider you a friend." She said quietly.

Susan still found it painful to look up-sun toward the final member of the breakfast party. Accepting Fiz's guiding arm, she let herself be steered toward the table. Strangely, the closer she got to the last member, the brighter the light became. As she took her chair, she felt a low, rumbling, hum vibrate its way through her body.

Finally seated, she turned toward the brilliant illumination, determined to open her eyes and see who she sat beside.

"Good Morning, Daughter of the Soil." The low mellifluous voice growled into her ears.

Her heart leapt in her chest as she recognized the voice. She heard a crash behind her as the chair she'd been sitting in folded into a heap behind her. With her arms twined through the coarse fur around his neck, her eyes cleared and she beheld the Great Lion.

"Aslan!" She cried joyfully.

_2_

Knees and elbows sore from her stumbles, and stiff from her confinement in the treasure pile, Lucy staggered from the cave entrance. Her arms wrapped about the all important box, clutching it tightly to her chest. As the clear, cool, early evening breeze brushed against her face, she collapsed to her knees, coughing violently.

Retching at the taste of the dragon-smoke in her lungs, she struggled to catch her breath. Unable to move, she felt strong arms try to lift her from the ground.

"Your Majesty, we must move. The Dragon! It is coming!" The faun's voice edged on panic.

Unable to speak, Lucy shook her head then tried to clear her vision.

The raw skin around her eyes stung as she rubbed them with the rough cloth of her sleeve. Looking across the meadow, she could see members of her party in the tree line. Their desperate shouts echoing off the rocks behind her.

Her empty stomach finally settling, she began to draw in long, ragged breaths. Still coughing, Lucy tried to command the quivering muscles of her legs to move beneath her, with no success. More members of the guard were running toward her. She could feel their footfalls getting closer, the steady, rhythmic pulse of the feet pounding against the hard stone, or was that Elgyn.

A wave of thick, hot air washed over her from the mouth of the cave. Looking up, she could see the fauns and talking beasts skidding to a stop on the grass.

'Too soon. The dragon was supposed to wait for her to call to him. Why had he come out early?'

Her mind raced as she tried to speak, to reassure them, but all that came out was a strangled croak, followed by another coughing fit. Once more, the faun tried to lift her off the ground. Her hand came into contact with a cool, soft, leather sack loosely tied to his belt. With a tug, the waterskin came free in her hand.

With a violent shake of her head, she wrenched her arm from his grasp. The guard stumbled past her, landing on his back. Panic etched in his face, he lay on the earth before her staring above her head. She could feel the heat radiating from the dragon's body.

With a heave, she staggered to her feet. Raising the skin to her lips, she poured cool water down her raw throat. Across the clearing, guards were drawing their swords and charging toward the dragon. Leaning forward, not caring how she looked with the spilled water soaking her front, she took an unsteady step toward the advancing soldiers. Spreading her arms, she tried to shout, but instead ended up falling to her knees, doubled over and coughing.

Once more she clawed to her feet. Turning to face the soldiers, she retreated until her back was against the dragon's chest. Again spreading her arms, she gathered her voice as she faced the onrushing weapons.

"Halt!" She croaked, "I order you to cease this attack!"

_3_

Thanks to Siandra's assistance, they no longer needed to make quite so much haste to return to the grove. To spare the horses, and their own stiff bodies, the two dryads had therefore decided to walk, at least for a little while.

Fiz held Susan's hand tightly in his own. She could feel the pulsations as his grip flexed with each step they took.

'Fiz?' She thought.

"I almost lost you yesterday," He cried. Deep pain etching his face.

Heads up and down the column turned toward the couple and Susan's heart thudded hard against her chest at the anguish in his voice.

"Shh." She laid her hand against his cheek. "You saved me. You held me. I am here," she moved her hand to his chest, "and here."

Fiz gave her a wan smile. "Susan. I..."

"There's nothing to say, dear sweet Fisrahd." She clasped his hand more tightly and leaned her head on his shoulder as they continued walking.

Glancing up the traveling column, she spied the old willow dryad deep in conversation with, and astride a talking horse. Snug on Fiz's arm, Susan giggled at Siandra's chatty and animated manner as the unintelligible sound of her voice drifted back. Fiz glanced over at her, mirth dispelling the concerns that had clouded his eyes.

Looking farther up the line, golden fur stood out against the verdant green growth through which they were passing. She could see Aslan in conversation with Orieus and Edmund, the low rumbles of his voice carrying through the air like the crash of the waves heard from deep within the castle.

The look on her brother's face was grim at the news the Great Lion was sharing.

She sped her pace, intending to join in their conversation, but Fiz's tightening grip held her back. With a slow blink, he gave his head a subtle shake.

"Your brother... brothers..." He paused.

She could see him struggling to find the words as his warm voice stumbled.

"Fiz?" Susan pulled him closer, clinging to his hand harder.

"Your whole family has been through a lot over the last several weeks. Last night, while Edmund slept, Aslan told me some of it."

Cold dread clasped her shoulders and chest as Susan almost stopped, but Fiz pulled her along and she quickly found her feet beneath her again.

"You know that Edmund almost lost himself to Jadis' bloodspell again, but Peter didn't have a chance to tell you that he had been north."

"North?" Susan's voice quavered a bit. North is where much of the evil that once held Narnia had retreated to.

"North," he continued. "At the head of a Marshwiggle army, battling giants to recover your hairbrush, the one that the hags stole from Lucy's chambers."

Susan's heart raced at the thought of her brother fighting giants on her behalf.

"But the worst part, and what I think Aslan may have just shared with Edmund, is your sister."

This time Susan did stop. Digging in her heels, she drug Fiz around to face her. She could feel the hair on her head standing out as ice trickled down her back.

"Lucy? What about Lucy!?" Susan's eyes widened as she nearly yelled the question.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Edmund's head spin her way, and she could have sworn she saw the lion's step falter.

"Lucy," Fiz took a deep breath. "She was severely injured, nearly killed in fact. Her group was attacked by pirates on the slopes of Mount Tere. And now, barely recovered from that injury, she has to face down a dragon to acquire the last ingredient for the potion."

"A d-dragon?" Susan mumbled, tears of fear welling in her eyes. Her whole body began trembling violently.

"Aslan has no doubts that she will be successful." Fiz replied, pulling her into his arms.

Susan looked up the column again. Aslan said something to Edmund then bowed his head deeply. Turning, the Lion let the line pass him until he was walking alongside Susan and Fiz.

"Fisrahd, if I may borrow your companion?" Aslan asked.

Susan felt the Great Lion's rumbling voice resonating in her own chest. She looked up as Fiz nodded, twisting the hand she held in her own, she pulled him close and kissed him before letting go.

His eyes glistening and his head slouched, Aslan turned to face the dryad Queen.

"Susan, will you walk with me for a while?" He asked quietly.

Shivers crawled down her spine at his mournful tone.

_4_

With much haste, Lucy's travel essentials were gathered to the clearing before the dragon's cave. Ducking into a hastily erected tent, she gave herself a sponge bath to remove the heavy layer of dirt and reek of dragon smoke. On Elgyn's advice, she pulled on several layers of clothing, over which she wore her leather armor.

Having cleaned up and prepared herself for the journey, she now turned to the all important box. Carefully, she wrapped it in blankets from her bed and then tied it securely with rope she had gotten from one of the soldiers. She then slid the bundle into a large, coarsely woven sack. This too, she tied off with a strong knot.

Shouldering the heavy bag, she stepped out of the tent into the late afternoon sunlight. Turning, she surveyed the camp. While a brave few were passing close to the dragon, and one faun had even stopped to engage him in conversation, most of the members of her party were giving the great lizard a wide berth.

Spying the Captain of the guard, she trotted off in his direction.

"Your Majesty?" The officer bowed as she approached. "Is this a wise course you are taking?"

"Prithee, I do not know. However, I am terribly afraid that if we were to take the usual route back, I would not be in time to help my sister. In the interest of expediency, I must take this path."

"Very well, My Lady." The officer nodded his head, resigned.

"I am counting on you to get our people safely down the mountain to Arcalem. Do not let the pirates draw you into a useless fight. Rendezvous with the _Transcendant Herald_ and return to Cair Paravel. With luck both my sister and myself will be on the dock to welcome you home."

Turning to the dragon, she noticed that the young faun who'd been conversing with him was trotting her way.

With a large grin, she greeted him. Hailing him for his bravery.

"What think you, good sir, of King Elgyn?" She asked.

"King or no, I could not begin to answer, Your Majesty, but there are some concerns of which he has asked me to see addressed." He replied.

"What concerns?" Lucy asked.

"Well..." The faun looked down at his feet. "He's... Well, he's afraid that you might fall off during the journey. Quite worried about it too. Doesn't think Aslan would forgive him if he lost you on the way back."

"Does he have a suggestion to prevent this occurance?" Lucy paused and looked at the huge flank of the dragon, her eyes tracing out the crenelations leading down its neck to the strongly muscled back and large, bat-like wings. "Aside from me riding back to the Cair clutched in his claws, that is."

"As the group's mountaineering expert, I've come up with a couple of ideas." He answered. Scooping a stick off the ground, he lead her to the packed dirt by the cave entrance. Quickly, he sketched the outline of the dragon in the dirt then proceeded to draw in several additional lines around the dragon's neck and girth.

"The dragon and I agree that by securing lines in these places, we can comfortably secure you and the box to his back without interfering with his ability to fly or breathe." The young soldier stepped back as she studied the sketch.

Smiling, Lucy looked up at him, she was suddenly struck by his resemblance to her friend, Mr. Tumnus. Reaching in her pocket, she rubbed the handkerchief she'd stuffed there, her fingers seeking out the embroidered 'T' on its corner.

"Good work!" Lucy reached out an took him by the arm, shaking it. "See that these are rigged right away. I want to leave within the hour if possible."

"Aye, Your Majesty!" With a quick salute, the faun scrambled to gather the rope and some assistance to rig them.

Forty minutes later, she found herself standing alongside Elgyn's massive head as the finishing touches were done on the riding harness. With a bemused grin, she plucked at the rope web that the faun had woven about her thighs and torso a few moments before.

"Are you okay, my Queen?" The Captain inquired.

"Aside from being trussed up like a Christmas turkey, I'm fine." She smiled in reply.

Elgyn turned his head away and snorted a puff of smoke.

"Over the years," his voice rumbled, "I've snacked on my share of pirates. Turkey taste a far sight better than any of them ever did."

Waving from the dragon's back, the faun shouted down that the harness was complete.

Swallowing her trepidation she took the officer's hand.

"For Queen Susan." She said

"And for Aslan." He bowed in return.

With a boost from the Guard Captain, Lucy found herself on the wide back of the dragon. Catching the rope that was tossed to her, she carefully drew up the sack containing the precious box. She could feel the heat of Elgyn's internal fire radiating through his scaly hide as she secured the cargo to a rope that had been strung about him, forward of the wings but abaft of his forelegs.

Clambering forward, she perched on his neck where it had narrowed to a little wider than the back of a horse. Carefully securing herself to the ropes that had been cinched there as a harness she squashed a shiver of fear at what she was about to do.

Affixing a sure grin to her face she waved to the Captain of the Guard.

"Make for the rendezvous with the _Herald_. I will see all of you in Cair Paravel!"

Already, the heat from the dragon was making her seat uncomfortable.

"King Elgyn, the time for your atonement has come. For Narnia and Queen Susan... Let - Us - Fly!"

_5_

Susan twined her hand in Aslan's mane as they walked into the shade of a large forest. The rest of the company were some distance away, walking in the same direction as her and the Lion. She could feel waves of melancholy sadness radiating outward from him.

"Tell me Susan, what have you learned of being a Dryad?" His low voice rumbled into her hearing.

The eerie, mournful chill that had grabbed her spine faded as the joys of what she had learned about being a dryad flooded out of her.

"I... I am alive as I don't think I ever have been before." She gushed.

Reaching out her free hand, she curled a bit of wind around some discarded leaves and set them to dancing above the two of them. Despite himself, the Great Cat chuckled.

"I can feel the pain of injured trees and, if necessary, heal them," she continued.

Aslan nodded as they continued to stroll at some distance from the nearest members of the guard. Under the cover of the trees, his warm glow seemed diminished, like a fire that had been banked for the night. The heavy way the lion's body hung between his shoulders brought to mind the stooped posture of the old oak back at the grove.

"Leadership," she said, "is making difficult decisions because you love your people and want to protect and do what is best for them."

Aslan straightened and looked her in the eye. Susan stood frozen. She wasn't sure what he was looking for, but after a moment, he looked away again. An emptiness tugged at her chest and it seemed as if a part of her had gone with him. Above their heads, the leaves seemed to droop downward in their spiraling.

Pulling her mind from the strange feeling she glanced ahead to where Fiz and Edmund were engaged in conversation.

"Fiz... Fisrahd," she whispered.

Looking over at Aslan, something in her own heart stood up and roared.

"Aslan, I love Fiz!" Her glad cry echoed off the trees around them and she could feel joy leaping like electricity between their branches.

Sweeping her arms outward and spinning on the spot, she watched as leaves from all around swirled inward to join the dance above her head.

"When I'm human again, I want to marry him." Susan threw herself to her knees before the lion. "Aslan, please tell me that I may."

With a wry grin Aslan had watched as she spun and danced beside him, but he did not answer when she knelt before him. Instead, he bowed his head and rested his mouth briefly against her forehead.

"There was another lesson you learned, daughter. When you first became a tree?" The Lion replied.

Susan slowly rose to her feet as she thought back to that day. With trepidation, she remembered her frustration at not being able to leave her tree.

"Sometimes," Susan started. "Sometimes, if you want something really badly, you have to let go in order to obtain it. I wanted to be free of my tree and instead, I have become free _with_ my tree."

Aslan looked up at her with a warm smile. It struck her though, that there were deep waves of sadness hovering in his eyes. As the joy of moments before drained out of her the leaves over their heads slowed their movements to a crawl.

"Aslan?" Her voice quavered as she asked a thousand questions with the one word.

"Susan." His great eyes met hers again. "You are aware that the potion that made you as you are involved the destruction of one of my children."

Susan nodded as leaves began to slip away from the slow swirl above her head.

"Her restoration is possible, Tumnus has recovered almost all of the unused potion." He continued in a mournful tone.

"Excellent," Susan smiled. "I had feared that the Hags had killed her when I was told of the process."

"But an important part of her was lost when you became what you are," Aslan continued.

Susan stopped walking and stared at him. Aslan swung his great head ponderously around to face her and took a seat, raising his glistening eyes to meet hers.

"Queen Susan, a difficult choice lies before you. You can be restored to fully human with everything you are now. You can remain a dryad. Or you can sacrifice a piece of yourself to restore my daughter to me." A huge tear broke loose and rolled down the fur of his cheek.

"W-what part?" Susan mumbled.

"My child, look inside yourself and you will find you already know the answer."

The slow swirl of leaves above their heads fell as tears to the ground around her.


	27. Passing of a King

**A/N:** Hello friends! I have completed what has proved to be by far the longest chapter of the story! Ten printed pages that read much much shorter! As the story is winding down, we now say goodbye to two minor characters and one major character. On pain of a 'Descriptive' beating from Straitjackit, I am required to warn you to have a box of tissues handy at the end of section three. (I'm VERY happy to have 'Jackit back betaing, even if she did call me a 'Git' for making her cry.)

**Passing of a King**

_1_

Cold wind raked at the raw skin of Lucy's cheeks. Through the long night, the rhythmic strokes of the dragon's wings had lulled her to somnolence. As dawn broke off their quarter, the young girl huddled close against Elgyn's scales, hoping to gather in some of his heat before it was swept away behind them.

Sun, dirt, smoke, and now incessant wind conspired to set the nerves of her face afire. Her throat was raw, and her mouth had ceased to have any moisture to either swallow or cough hours before. Sometime, back in the deep darkness, her waterskin had been lost as she fumbled with near frozen hands to get a drink. In an effort to dispel her discomfort, she closed her eyes again and let her mind wander.

Early in the journey she'd found, in spite of the roar of the slipstream in her ears, that by leaning against his neck she could feel the vibration and understand what Elgyn said. He'd passed the evening telling Lucy how his last arrow had found the one weak spot in the dragon's armor and thus slain the beast that had wiped out his party.

Exhausted, bloodied and burned, he'd staggered into the cave for shelter, only to find the dragon's hoard. The King had fallen asleep dreaming of how he would use the riches in the cave to finance the defense of Narnia against the evil he had released in his hubris. He shared his dismay from that next morning when he awoke and discovered himself to have become a dragon.

Lucy cried at the bitter despair into which he had descended.

He, who'd once been a man. No, a King! Become a mute beast.

Slowly, Elgyn had lost himself to the draconic instincts that now held sway over him. But he'd managed to hold one line. Through it all, he'd managed to keep himself from attacking the free men of Terebinthia. Pirates, now pirates were another matter. He wouldn't eat them by choice, but if he came across them attacking innocent travelers, that was their problem.

Years had passed. Along the way, he'd forgotten who he was and that he was ever anything other than a dragon, but he still defended the Terebinthians.

Hungry one night, he'd flown quietly to the pirate town of Dravale. As he lurked in the shadows, seeking an opportunity to snack on a horse or cow, he'd heard several drunken pirates slurring on about their new commission from the Queen of Narnia.

Narnia.

The name seemed to freeze in his gullet. Everything rushed back to him. With an anguished cry, he'd launched himself skyward and flown with all the speed he could muster. In high summer, he'd left Terebinthia, yet as he approached the shore, winter fogs hid the coast. As he swept over the spires of Cair Paravel, under leaden gray clouds, snow fell around him.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he beheld the horrible consequences of his actions so long ago. The tree had fallen by his order, if not his hand and the White Witch, the neevil of legend had come.

Distraught, Elgyn had returned to Terebinthia, but he now had a new purpose. He patrolled the coast and kept a close eye on Dravale. Then the day had come when Jadis had dared to attempt to invade the island. Coldly, he'd watched as her forces gathered closer to Vin. The brave defenders in their boats slowing the front of the incoming attack.

As he dived, he released an unearthly scream that echoed and re-echoed off the fjord's cliffs. In his heart, that bellow resounded. 'My home may be gone! My humanity may be gone! But today, if I should die, I die a free Narnian!'

After that, he would find sheep and cattle tied in the clearing before his cave. Then one day, a young man stood there. Elgyn had gobbled down the sheep that was picketed in the clearing and bowed to the man in thanks. As he turned, a large rock had slammed against the scales of his jaw.

Anger flaring, he whipped his head back to the man. As he leaned in, the man closed his eyes and smiled. With a sniff, Elgyn stepped back and lay down, staring at the man.

He thought really hard. The man wanted to die. Why? Why did this young man wish to be eaten?

"Why?"

"A fever. It took my wife and daughter. Please? I must be with them."

It took Elgyn a moment to realize that he'd actually spoken. For over a hundred years, he'd been mute within the dragon's body, only able to bellow and screech. In the woods, he thought he caught a golden flash as the sun arched down through the trees.

"No." Elgyn's gravelly draconic voice spoke.

"Why not?" The anguished man pleaded.

"Aslan wants you to live." The dragon had replied.

The man fought. In his fury and grief, he beat on Elgyn's jaws, demanding they open and let him in. Exhausted, the man collapsed in front of the the dragon. Gently, Elgyn had carried him inside the cave. Making a bed of some tapestries, he kept watch as the man's grief tried and failed to consume him.

Finally, the spell broke. The sad young man sat up and asked for something to eat. Elgyn had roasted a leg of lamb with his fiery breath and the man had spoken calmly, but sadly, of the wife and daughter he'd lost.

They'd conversed often, Elgyn and the young hermit, but the time came when the young man realized that life alone, with only a dragon for company, is not what Aslan had wanted him to live for. Elgyn had flown him to the outskirts of Vin and they had parted ways for good.

Since then, the dragon had guarded the island, and waited for Aslan to call him home to Narnia.

Lucy awakened to find the sun climbing in the sky behind her, it's bright reflection chasing them across the sea. Before them the gray shoreline turned brown and green. Ahead, reflecting the golden morning light, the white walls of Cair Paravel glistened.

"Home!" They said, voices twining together on the wind.

_2_

Tired and saddle sore, Edmund blearily trailed Orieus into the Narnian encampment. Only when his mount stopped moving did he peel his eyes away from the horse's neck, looking over to find his brother standing beside him.

"Wake up sleepyhead." Peter said, shaking Ed's shoulder gently.

Edmund rolled his eyes. "I'd sooner find a cot and continue dreaming," he muttered.

With a groan, he swung himself off the horse, landing heavily and hanging onto the saddle until he was sure his legs would hold him. Shaking the cobwebs from his mind, he thanked his mount and handed the horse's reins to a groom.

Satyr guards led a bound and shackled Meertz past him, securing her within a well guarded tent.

Turning, he found Peter and an old male dryad kneeling in welcome before Aslan. Edmund smiled at the glazed look in the dryad's eyes. He recognized the raw, life changing joy of meeting Aslan for the first time.

With a nod from the great lion, they rose.

"Robur, you have done well by those in your charge, guiding your community through a perilous age. On their behalf, I thank you."

Looking out, the young King took in the feel of the camp. Beneath the gaily fluttering banners and behind the brightly colored tents, he could sense the undercurrent of tension. Solidiers moving in silence and with stiff precision. The usual happy gossip of an army in the field was lacking. Instead, he saw those off duty huddling together in twos and threes, whispering quietly.

In his tired state, their thoughts were also his. 'Would it all come together in time? Would the attempt be successful?'

Edmund saw Peter's eyes shoot out beyond Aslan. Turning to follow his brother's gaze he saw Susan clinging tightly to Fiz, as she had for the last two days.

Staring at his sister and her... her consort. Edmund smiled at finally picking the right word for the young male dryad. He squashed his doubts. Their plan was good. Lucy'd arrive in time and everything they'd suffered during this last month would most definitely be worth it.

"Y-your Majesty?" Peter bowed his head then leaned, as if pulling on a rope strung over his shoulder.

With a chuckle, Aslan nodded his head. His great golden mane tossing at the motion.

As if the invisible rope had been cut, Peter fell forward into a run that ended by colliding with his sister, tearing her from Fiz's arm and sweeping her into a wild spin.

Determined to bring more cheer to the encampment, Edmund trotted over and clapped his hand on Fiz's shoulder.

"Give him a moment, and I think he _might_ give her back to you," Ed stage whispered at Fiz' ear. "But if it comes to swords to free her, I'll stand with you."

Fiz laughed briefly, watching the elder siblings, then worry furrowed his brow and he leaned close to Edmund.

"Susan has refused to say anything of what Aslan told her. Has she made any mention of it to you?" He asked.

"I'm sorry but she has not," Ed replied, the uneasiness beginning to knot at his stomach again.

"Whatever it was has affected her deeply," Fiz continued. "She has not smiled since they returned from their walk, nor, until this moment, has she released her grip on my arm."

Edmund glanced over his shoulder at the Lion. Aslan's guidance was always aimed at what was best for those he counseled, though it was not always what seemed best at the time. Pondering what he might of asked of Susan, the King turned his eyes back to his siblings.

Peter stopped spinning, gently lowering Susan to the ground. Steadying each other against the dizziness, they walked hand in hand back to Fiz and Edmund. Peter's broad smile at having this part of his family back together far outshining the quiet smile on Susan's lips.

A smile Edmund noted did not reach to her eyes.

_3_

The click of his hooves echoed and resounded off the cold stone walls of the east tower. Widely spaced torches spluttered in the darkness, barely illuminating the stairs that he climbed. Chest heaving, he ascended the last curve, coming out into the moist sea air. To his west, the near full waxing moon sank toward the horizon. Already, the first stars had winked out as the glow of the coming new day announced itself in the east.

"No sign of ship lights this night, Counselor," the centaur on watch reported.

Tumnus grunted softly in reply.

Worry clouded the faun's features. It would take time to reach the grove once Lucy returned to Cair Paravel, which was supposed to have happened already. He should have found a way to go with her. Their lives had each been risked for the other from the moment he'd first met her in the woods by the lamp post. He had come to realize that his danger was no less real than hers. Jadis would never have allowed anyone with knowledge of a daughter of eve's presence in Narnia to live. He wasn't just Queen Lucy's subject, he was her friend, and she...

She was his best friend.

Pressure turned his white knuckles cold as he gripped the stone parapet. Tumnus stared seaward, hoping for some glimpse or sign of a sail or ship returning from Terebinthia. Soft clicks reached his ears as the centaur shifted her stance.

With the visual glory of a trumpet fanfare, the golden sun broke above the horizon. Long shadows rippled outward behind the sea's waves as a bright, glimmering road connected the sun to the castle.

Involuntarily, he looked towards the brilliant orb mushrooming through the wavering air. Tears flooded his eyes as purple afterimages pulsed in his vision. Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled out a handkerchief and held it tightly to his eyes.

"What in the name of..." The guard muttered.

"I'm sorry?" Tumnus' voice quavered in reply to the centauress' shocked tone.

"In the air, to the southeast," she pointed.

Tumnus struggled to see past the fading purple blur. A sudden gasping breath beside him was followed by a fury of motion and the piercing blast of the guard blowing alarm on her trumpet. Shaking his head, he struggled to piece together the message in the pattern the centauress was blowing.

Shouts from below echoed upward off the castle's walls as archers and crossbowmen flooded out onto the battlements. At the sight of the strung bows, Tumnus recalled King Edmund's instructions on battlefield messages.

A Dragon!

Of all the ill conceived, ill considered things to occur, with none of the Monarchs present to oversee the defenses! A blasted dragon _would_ choose to attack now!

The thunder of charging footsteps stormed onto the tower behind him as he struggled to see the approaching threat. The afterimage was finally fading, but it still made it difficult to focus on the dark speck against the early morning sky.

A brief golden flash and glittering drew his attention skyward and he was able to make out the great beast stroking it's wings on a direct line toward the castle.

"Hold! Wait for it to get closer." The cry echoed from squad leaders on the various levels of the walls.

Tumnus tried to look closer. He hadn't had many opportunities to see a dragon. There'd been the one turned to Stone in Jadis castle, but it hadn't fully recovered before they'd left to join the battle at Beruna. Eyes clearing, he studied the lines of the beast. He made note of the oddly colored, over-sized spine at the base of it's neck.

From its incredible height, the dragon changed to a glide. Descending, the worm looked as if it would pass along the east side of the castle, instead of directly over top. A thin wisp of smoke trailed back from the beast's snout.

"Steady," the sergeant atop the tower rallied his squad.

Tumnus blinked. Tapping the centaur of the watch on its lower shoulder, he pointed at her bag.

"Your glass," he ordered.

She fumbled in her bag for the telescope and passed it over to him.

Holding it to his eye, he looked toward the beast. Blinking, he struggled to focus with the unfamiliar device and the beasts motion. He caught a blurry look at the off-color spine and fought to focus on it, losing the beast momentarily and then finding it again.

The beast was so huge, that as it turned, and tilted it's wings, he couldn't see what he was trying to make out. Suddenly, he caught a brief, focused view.

"Ropes?" He wondered aloud. "Why would a dragon be wrapped with ropes as if it were a beast of burden?"

He focused again through the glass and this time caught a flash of golden yellow hair sweeping backward from the strange spine.

Not a spine!

"QUEEN LUCY!" Tumnus yelled.

"Sound the recall," he yelled to the centaur with the bugle. "Don't shoot!"

Too late. As the first note of the recall sounded, a group on another tower let fly with a hail of arrows. No others were released, but the damage had already been done.

The dragon saw the incoming flight of arrows and ripped itself into an abrupt spiral, placing it's bulk between the arrows and his cargo. The arrows bounced off of the hard polished armor of it's hide, but as it righted itself the dragon staggered in the air. Legs curling beneath it, the beast fell from the sky. With a heart rending shriek, echoed by the scream of his passenger, the dragon extended his wings and ceased its fall.

With feeble movements, it managed to glide down to the tournament field where it slid down, crushing a corner of the stands and plowing a deep furrow in the well kept grass. Tumnus bolted from the tower.

Tearing through the guards who'd rushed to the field, Tumnus fought his way to the front, glad and terrified at the power he now wielded fully for the first time as Counselor to the Monarchs. A path melted before him and he rushed to Queen Lucy's side.

Great tears streamed down her face as she tried to hug the huge head of the dragon.

"Fetch Tiaana!" She yelled.

"Tiaana's not here, she's gone ahead to your sister's grove," Tumnus answered the distraught queen.

"His heart. We've got to help him. Please!" Sobs tore at her shoulders as she pleaded for help for the dragon.

"No, Lucy," the dragon answered weakly. "I am happy. My people have good leaders, far better than I. And I... I die a free Narnian."

"ELGYN!" She wailed.

The beast's wings fell limp to it sides and it's chest sank inward. A final puff of smoke rolled from its nostrils and the dragon breathed no more.

Lucy sniffled, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief that Tumnus produced from within the secret folds of his ever present scarf. "He sacrificed himself to save me from those arrows. We'd been flying so long. He was tired and the sudden maneuver was too much strain, and he burst his heart."

A ray of sunlight peeked around the edge of the castle and washed over the giant body. The great worm began to glow, then the serpent's body turned to ash and collapsed in on itself. The bag with the precious box sank slowly to the ground and came to rest beside a withered human body lying face down in the dirt of the furrow.

Lucy waded through the cloud of dissipating ash to the body, rolling it onto its back. Tumnus, following her into the swirling grit, unfastened his cloak and draped it over the old man.

Slowly, the sea breeze swept the loose flakes away as the two friends gazed into the old man's peaceful expression.

"Who was he?" Tumnus whispered.

Lucy sniffled. Reaching out, she closed his eyes with her hands. She stood and turned to face the assembled crowd.

Raising her voice, she addressed the gathered soldiers and subjects. "Have a royal tomb prepared for this man. Over the entrance, have it say 'Here lies Elgyn, A True King of Narnia."

Turning back to the man on the field, she knelt down beside him. Choking back a sob she grasped his still warm hand in hers.

"King Elgyn, your debt is paid, your atonement is given." Lucy's husky voice broke. "We will meet again in Aslan's Country."

_4_

"Tiaana!"

The cherry tree dryad's head whipped around at the cry of her name as it echoed from herald to herald across the encampment. A rapid tattoo of drumbeats chased her name through the air.

"Report to the royal encampment," she whispered. Focusing, she sent a manifestation of herself to the royal compound to indicate her obedience.

Jaevyan reached under the counter and handed Tiaana her medical bag. With a smile of thanks, the dryad turned to run from the tent.

"Wait," the centaur priestess ordered. Gathering items from the shelves they had been inventorying and arranging, she tossed them to Tiaana, who quickly stowed them in her bag. As the dryad snagged the last jar out of the air, Jaevyan nodded. "Go!"

Unsettled by the surety with which the centauress had selected the various remedies to add to her kit, Tiaana bolted from the tent, crossing the camp as fast as her body would allow her. She arrived only moments behind the manifestation she'd sent to acknowledge receipt of the request.

A faun grabbed her as she skidded to a halt in front of the guards.

"Tumnus?! You're... then Queen Lucy..." She blurted.

"Lucy is here, but she is not well," the faun replied. Deep lines of worry etching his tired face.

Tiaana took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "Show me to Her Majesty.

Counselor Tumnus lead the apothecary past several tents, pausing before a golden pavilion with red piping and flags. Reaching out he pulled back the entrance flap.

Queen Lucy lay on a cot placed perpendicular to the tent's far wall. The Kings stood against the canvas on the right side. Seated on a stool left of the cot, Queen Susan's dryad avatar clung to Lucy's pale hand, silent tears streamed down her face. Behind her Fisrahd stood solemnly, his hands resting on Susan's shoulders. On the right, a young faun bent over with his right ear pressed to Lucy's chest.

A deep, ragged cough broke loose from the young Queen, drawing Tiaana's attention. Lucy's face was visibly dry, with a rough, flaky appearance. Evil looking red cracks etched across her cheeks, weeping thin drips of blood from their ends. Dark circles surrounded her puffy and bloodshot eyes.

The faun stood and came over to her. She could see the emblem on his chest that marked him as an army medic.

"Lanarch, Milady," he bowed.

"What do we have?" The apothecary asked.

"Her face is badly windburned, but that shouldn't be a hard treatment. She's feverish and has a raspy cough through combination of breathing dragonsmoke and prolonged exposure to chilled air."

Tiaana recalled the last jar Jaevyan had tossed, fishing in her bag, she pulled it out and handed it to the faun.

"Apply this to her cheeks to ease the burn," she said.

As Lanarch tuned to apply the salve, Tiaana turned to King Edmund. The haunted look in his eyes disturbed her.

Reaching out, she grasped his arm. "Sire, fetch me a hot tea kettle, and a large mug."

Edmund hustled out of the tent.

Brushing past Peter, she blew out one of the candles on the table beside the cot. Prizing the candle from it's bronze plate, she scraped the wax from the metal then began layering various herbs together on the base. Adding a bit of cool water, she made a paste. Setting it on a low table by Lucy's head, she lit a taper of incense and lay it in the mixture.

Very soon, a pungent aroma began to fill the tent. Gently, Tiaana wafted the vapors toward Lucy's nose, where the Queen inhaled them deeply.

"These vapors should ease your breathing, my Queen." Tiaana addressed Lucy. "The mixture should last for several hours. Please summon me if you wish it renewed at that time."

The young queen blinked slowly and nodded before smiling at Susan and squeezing her hand.

Lucy's breathing eased, Tiaana turned back to the table. Selecting other herbs, including some Jaevyan had tossed to her, she mixed them and prepared several linen bags.

Lanarch stepped up beside her and set the jar on the table.

"Keep that here," Tiaana said. "She'll need it reapplied this evening and again in the morning."

Edmund bustled through the entrance with a mug hanging from his right little finger as he moved a steaming teapot from one hand to another. Tiaana closed her eyes and shook her head.

Pointing to the table beside her, she addressed the younger King. "Put that down before I have to heal your hands of the burns it will give you."

With a wry grin, Edmund set the teapot and mug on the table. "Completely forgot about gloves."

Tiaana lay one of the bags in the mug. Taking the teapot with a towel, she poured the hot water over the herbs, stirring until the liquid had turned a smooth, deep brownish green. Removing the bag, she ladled in a spoonful of honey which she stirred until it dissolved.

"You saw how I prepared this?" She asked Lanarch.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Repeat with these two bags at four hours." She handed him the steaming mug. "Have her drink this one now."

"Aye, Milady." The faun turned and helped Lucy ease to a seated position where she could drink the concoction.

"Queen Lucy, you will need to drink all of this." Tiaana indicated the cup Lanarch held. "The herbs will help you to sleep, and sleep is what you need to avoid having this become a serious illness. It also contains ingredients to relieve the aching pain that you are feeling and, of course, there is the honey to soothe your sore throat."

As the hot liquid flowed down her throat, some color returned to Lucy's cheeks. Recalling the previous winter when she'd had to treat the Kings for serious head colds, she was quite pleased to see Lucy following her and Lanarch's instructions smoothly.

As Lucy drank, Tiaana lay her hand against the Queen's forehead. Detecting a slight fever, she added a pinch of several different herbs to the wash basin. Soaking and wringing a cloth, she handed it to Susan. "Dab her forehead with this as she rests. Once she is sleeping peacefully, soak it again and fold it across her eyes and forehead."

"T...Tiaana." Lucy croaked.

"You should rest, Your Majesty," she replied.

"My pack. Elgyn's box, for Jaevyan." Lucy closed her eyes and took another long draught from the mug.

Reaching into the pack, Tiaana extracted the elegantly carved wooden chest. Her heart leaped at thought of the powers that the contents of this box held. "I'll see that she gets this. You rest now."

Lucy lay back on the cot, and in moments, she was lightly snoring.

"Your Majesties," she addressed the Kings. "You may stay here another five minutes, but after that, you must leave."

She pointed toward the incense. "The smoke doesn't effect dryads, and Lanarch is trained to deal with its effects, but you will find it has disturbing properties for the well."

_5_

The gentle clink of the black steel links teased at Cervid's bovine ears. Quietly, in the language of his fathers, he lowed his death-chant for he was a prisoner of his enemies and would surely be executed. As he finished the stanzas, each summarizing a year of his brief life, he would unconsciously tug at the unyielding manacles. The metallic chime had become rhythm to his dirge. The clattering of plate armor interrupted his twenty-third year as a pair of Centaur's entered the tent in which he was held.

"Up." A guard commanded, his bare blade glowing in the light from the open tent flap.

Unspeaking, the Minotaur scout uncoiled and slowly rose to his feet.

"Come." The lead guard said, turning to exit the tent.

The second guard, with his short sword unsheathed, tossed his head in the direction of his companion, indicating that Cervid was to follow.

Continuing his chant, he followed his captors out of the tent and across the camp to a small copse of trees. As he passed between two beech trees who's trunks arched together as though a doorway, the harsh afternoon sun dimmed to a cool, green tinged glow. At the front of the room, for a room of tree's it was, stood the Kings of Narnia and the elder of the Queens. They conversed quietly with a wizened old dryad and a large lion.

The lion looked up from the discussion as the guards lead the scout to a bench at the front of the cathedral of trees. As their eyes met, Cervid's lowing came to an abrupt halt. Trembling, he tried to hold his gaze locked on that of the feline predator. His years of training refused to allow him to look away from the face of he who would be his executioner.

After a few seconds, and a lifetime later, the lion nodded and looked away. Cervid was overcome with the strange sensation that he had just been tested and found worthy. But of what?

Confused by the signs of respect he had earned from the lion and the feelings that they had generated, Lieutenant Cervid resumed his death-chant. He continued to low as dryads and centaurs; fauns, satyr's and myriad talking beasts slowly filed into the copse and took seats on benches arranged through the middle of the arboreal hall.

A shriek sliced through the air and the violent clatter of someone in chains being forcibly presented to the assembly brought his final verse to an abrupt conclusion. A hiss whipped through the crowd as four centaurs brought Meertz, elder and leader of the Hagarathan, into the hall. With no small difficulty, she was lead to a bench opposite the one on which Cervid sat. Unlike himself, the hag's chains were bound to the tree out of which the benchroot grew.

The group at the head of the room concluded their discussion and all but the elder King turned to take their seats facing the crowd. The King turned to face the people, raising his hands to garner their attention and win their silence. With a breath, he lowered his arms to speak.

"Your Majesty, please!" A tenor voice spoke loudly from the archway.

Heads spun as the younger Queen brushed off the hands of a pair of Fauns and strode to the head of the hall. Halfway there, she had to stop as a series of violent coughs racked her body. The two fauns caught up as she struggled to catch her breath.

A voice he recognized carried over the hum of the Narnians. "Milady, you should be in your bed."

"Lanarch," she croaked. "My brother today sits in judgment on another and in such matters we are united. I will not return to my bed until this is concluded." Queen Lucy's voice silenced all further objections.

There was a brief scramble as the Dryads provided another chair at the front of the hall before King Peter could begin the proceeding.

"Loyal Narnian subjects. Today we meet in judgment on those who have willfully and with no remorse violated the safety and the very person of Queen Susan, and through her, all of Narnia. Though those involved will claim this to be but a battle in what they see as an ongoing war, we say to you that this was no warlike act of battle, but a vile crime perpetrated with guile and deceit."

Turning, Peter nodded to the younger King, who stood and faced the assemblage.

"And yet!" King Edmund's voice boomed off the surrounding trees. "And yet, there are those who having been lead to believe the deceits to be true, are but pawns in the games of power the true villains play."

Edmund stalked before the crowd, arms waving in punctuation to his comments. Mesmerized by the power within the younger King's voice, Cervid focused his full attention on him.

"Such people are not to be feared, for to fear them only strengthens the hold the deceivers have on them. Nor are they to be pitied, for pity is beneath us and belittling to those who might otherwise be our friends." He paused and looked over his shoulder at the High King. "Or even our brothers."

"To these we must show compassion. I more than most, understand exactly what strength this compassion holds and what miracles it is capable of. Through the example we set they shall learn to recognize the true strength within themselves."

Edmund came to a halt standing in front of Cervid. The young minotaur's eyes darted around the hall, coming to rest on the empty space at the front where the lion had been seated.

Where was he? How had he managed to move without being noticed?

The scout ruthlessly squashed the panic reflex that rose within him as a soft voice rumbled softly in his right ear.

"Cervid. I, Aslan, honor the gift of your chant. You have nothing to fear from me."

The muscles of his back flickered and trembled as the lion's warm breath washed across his spine.

"Stand, Son of the Plains, and answer truthfully," Aslan instructed.

With tentative movements, Cervid unfolded from his seat and stood facing King Edmund.

"Lieutenant Cervid. Is it true that you were captured, severely injured, after an honorable battle between your squad and elements of the Narnian Army?" Edmund asked.

Honorable battle? Cervid had never heard a non-minotaur speak so of war.

"Yes," he replied.

One of the centaurs took a half step forward quietly muttering 'Your Majesty', but the King just closed his eyes with a slight shake of his head and held up a hand to stay the guard.

"Your injuries," Edmund continued. "They have been well treated and properly cared for?"

"Yes," Cervid answered again.

"And aside from the treatment of your injuries, you have been treated well since your capture?" The King asked.

"Yes, King Edmund," Cervid answered, casting his eyes downward.

Edmund looked to the guards on either side of the minotaur. "Release his bonds."

Turning to the assembly, he again raised his voice to carry to the farthest ears.

"We have no quarrel with Lieutenant Cervid. His life is his own."

Cervid stared in disbelief as the King returned his gaze to meet the minotaur's own.

"Stay and witness," Edmund gestured to the bench on which Cervid had been sitting. "That you may accurately report what occurs here to General Kine."

Edmund returned to his seat as an elder Centauress stood from the front row of the assemblage. Cervid watched as the four guards around the hag stepped back.

"What!" The hag sneered. "The _royal siblings _can't do this themselves? Come Jaevyan surely they can do this without _you_?"

The hag's words seemed to wash over the female centaur with all of the effect of a light breeze on a large stone.

"Meertz," Jaevyan began, "Do you deny plotting against Queen Lucy and her siblings?"

The hag bristled and lunged against her chains. "I deny nothing except these usurper's power over this land!"

Cervid jumped as the Lion unleased an earsplitting roar. Heart thudding in his chest, he was pleased to look out over the crowd and see that a number of the Narnian's were picking themselves up off the floor.

Rolling her eyes at the hag's intransigence, Jaevyan continued with the questioning.

"Did you prepare a potion that resulted in Queen Susan being turned into a dryad?"

With a clanking of the chains binding her to the tree, Meertz crossed her arms, glaring past the centauress at Aslan.

Disbelieving whispers shot through the crowd as the Narnians took in the hag's defiance.

"Did you order limbs gathered from the dryad Susan's tree for the purpose of drawing her to you and using her in another of your potions?" Jaevyan demanded.

Her back rigid and her expression haughty, Meertz sat down on the bench and drilled her eyes first into Cervids own before shifting her angry stare to the younger King.

"I neither deny nor admit anything. Do what you will for I will only be a beacon for others to follow," the hag growled.

"ENOUGH!" Peter roared.

Jaevyan turned and bowed to the High King before resuming her place in the front of the crowd.

"Meertz, by the laws of Narnia, for the injuries and damages you have caused, it is within our purview to declare your life forfeit for your crimes."

"See! I told you it..."

With another ear shattering roar, Aslan leaped toward the hag, landing mere feet in front of her.

"Be silent and listen, that you may understand the mercy that such a sentence for you would be." The Lion growled.

"However," Peter continued, "we find that there is truth in the statement that your death would encourage rather than deter others. We therefore order you and those who have bound themselves to your leadership banished beyond the northern borders of Narnia unto your tenth generation hence. Sentence to be carried out immediately, with the assistance and at the convenience of the Lord Aslan."

Aslan stood before the hag. Cervid could feel the Lion's low growl rumbling from the ground into his hooves.

"Now do you understand?" Peter asked the hag, "The mercy for you that death would have been? You will live among your sisters. Live in the snowy, cold wastes for the rest of your lives. You will live, reviled by your own kind, for where the _beacon_ of your leadership has lead them."

Cervid watched as Aslan drew in a deep breath. Time froze as the Lion's lungs filled to their capacity and then, with a prolonged whoosh, he exhaled, and his breath swept Meertz out of her chains and carried her away through the air over the northern horizon.

Cervid had no doubt that every hag who had sworn to follow Meertz's leadership was even now being scooped up by the same wind and carried along with her.


	28. Wake

**A/N:** I was unsure of the choice of title for this chapter until I pulled up a dictionary site. ( www . thefreedictionary . com / wake ) The more I read the many and varied definitions, the more of them applied to this chapter, from the most basic through to the most elaborate. I am once again amazed at the richness a single word of the english language can hold. Many thanks to Straitjackit, Petraverd and ECPeters for the Betawork! Lickitysplit and the gang at 'TheLionsCall . com', thank you for helping me choose the title.

**Wake**

_1_

Tumnus lay the back of his lightly furred hand against Lucy's forehead. Thanks to the ministrations of Lanarch and Tiaana, the slight fever he'd worried about earlier had now faded. Her quiet breathing brushed across his arm as he pulled his hand away and replaced the cooling cloth. The faun could feel his face tug into a content smile as he continued to care for the young queen.

Still asleep, her hands pulled out from under the blanket, stopping before her mouth as the deep, ragged breath she drew became a hacking, gravelly cough.

Worry creased his brow. After the hours she spent in the cold night sky a-dragonback, and the great haste they had made from Cair Paravel to the dryad grove, Lucy should have stayed in her bed and not taken part in the King's Council. Participating in the Hag's banishment had taken much of her remaining strength.

Outside he could hear the sounds of the dryads and others preparing the clearing for the night's festivity. At the conclusion of the council, the leader of the grove had commanded a celebration be held in honor of Queen Susan's eve as a dryad.

A loud clatter and a muffled exclamation drifted through the tent walls as someone tripped and dropped whatever they had been carrying; torch poles from the sound of the crash. At the noise, Lucy stirred, then settled her head more deeply in the pillow.

Wringing a new cloth over the basin he replaced the one on her forehead with the cool fresh towel. Shaking his head, he gently brushed the damp, golden hair away from her face.

He'd promised to wake her for the night's dancing; that was the only reason she'd agreed to drink the potion Tiaana had prepared to get her over the last stage of her illness.

Standing, the faun stretched then walked to the front of the tent. Traffic through the royal compound was light, the noise from earlier notwithstanding. Tumnus snorted quietly. There would be a shortage of light among the tents of the enclave come deep morning, but everyone would be at the revel then so it should not matter.

With a deep sigh, he watched the sun setting beyond the trees across the glade. When had this young girl gotten inside him? Had it been when he'd stood, watching her sleep in his house after the lullaby? Maybe it was her friendly chatter over the cup of cocoa. It certainly wasn't her scream at their first encounter. He grinned, reaching up to rub his ears. No, it was some intangible moment as she was helping gather the packages. His stomach had dropped and his heart had climbed into his throat as he'd considered what he was required to do with any humans he encountered.

Had he known then of her incredible strength, her all encompassing love would he have even followed through on the first part of the plan? What if he'd sent her away immediately? Would she and her family have returned and freed them? Tumnus sighed and looked back into the dim tent at the peacefully sleeping face there. When the sun had sunk from sight, he turned, lit a single candle on the side table and resumed his vigil.

_2_

"I'm sorry, your majesty, but we cannot rush the restoration potion." The centauress bowed nobly to the High King, the timbre of her deep voice soothing his agitation and impatience as her words could not.

Tiaana stood to one side wringing her hands. From the corner of his eye, he could see she was occasionally slipping looks over her shoulder at the simmering cauldrons. He took note of the large number of pots that the Apothecary and the Priestess were minding.

Peter cleared his throat, glancing downward, not meeting the centaur priestess' eyes. "I had hoped that it might be possible. Tomorrow night is the full moon and..."

"All will be ready in time, sire." Jaevyan reached out and lay a hand on his arm. "The dryads of this grove have planned a _fare well_ for Susan. Relax and enjoy the celebration of her life among them."

Peter stepped back as Tiaana resumed stirring the numerous pots in which elements of the restorative potion were being prepared. With a brief shake of his head he turned and made himself march purposefully toward the royal enclave. In only a few steps, his resolve weakened and his stride became staggered.

On the verge of heading back, a faun brushed by him, hurrying in the direction of the royal tents. Peter searched his memory, quickly digging out the name he sought.

"Lanarch. Why the haste?" Peter's thoughts immediately left Susan and focused on Lucy, sick in her bed. What had she been thinking, returning to Narnia on dragonback?

Peter snorted at that thought and shook his head slightly. The just ended conversation with Jaevyan stood in stark answer to the question.

Lanarch looked at him briefly, then gesturing to the brilliant colors of the sunset, the young faun shrugged. "Apologies, my Liege. I was speaking with the Minotaur, Lieutenant Cervid and lost track of time. Queen Lucy is due for the next application of the cream for her windburn and I didn't want to be late with the treatment."

Peter sharpened his pace again, now having a destination worthy of his demeanor. Lanarch fell in alongside his elbow.

"And how is our guest faring?" The King inquired.

"Cervid?" The medic replied. "I believe he's still in a bit of shock. He thought he was going to be executed for his role in the Queen's predicament."

Peter allowed himself a quiet smile. "I tire of war and battle. The Minotaur are a noble and honorable people and I would have peace with them, that we may each turn our energies to more constructive pursuits."

"I too would rather spend my energies healing the sick rather than reassembling those cloven by swordplay," Lanarch replied.

"Lieutenant Cervid's treatment while in our custody is hopefully but the first of many peaceful messages that shall be exchanged between our peoples," Peter said as he reached out to open the flap of Lucy's tent.

The High King caught a glimpse of Lucy sleeping and Tumnus gently changing the cold compress on her forehead. Realizing that he was once again _there with nothing to do_ he stood aside as the medic and her dearest friend tended to the sick Queen.

How did the girls do it? They always seemed so... involved. Even Ed had his friendships among the people. When all this was over, if he could find time. Time... Time to make friends among the Narnians, someone he wouldn't have to always be 'King Peter' around.

Needing to do something to feel useful, Peter decided to follow the sounds to the clearing where the dryads were preparing for the night's celebration.

_3_

Jogging lightly, Edmund brushed by Peter in front of Lucy's tent, careful to make sure the sheathed sword in his right hand didn't bump or catch on him.

Something about his brother seemed out of sorts and he was already sliding to a stop as Peter's hushed, tense voice reached him. "Ed! What's the hurry?"

Edmund caught a hint of darkness in the High King's eyes. When did all those lines start appearing on Peter's face? The younger king shrugged at his brother and then grinned broadly. "The sun may have set, but there is still a half-hour's good light. I go to meet Fiz for a spar before we must make ready for the evening revel."

Peter's expression hardened and he cocked an eyebrow at the mention of Susan's dryad suitor. "Fiz, ah... I had been intending to have a word with you regarding him."

Edmund suddenly recognized the expression and realized he'd put his foot square in the gopher hole.

"Oh, I approve, Peter." Ed interjected swiftly. "Smart, loyal, quick on his feet and in his head. Pretty good with a blade as well. And he's totally besotted of our dear Susan."

Edmund could see Peter pulling himself together to present his objection and headed him off. Susan's paramour was clearly not the reason for Peter's mood, but he'd have to get the High King past that to have any hope of addressing the real issue.

"Brother, Su's seventeen. I say it is far better that she be involved with a Narnian of unimpeachable character and loyalty than one of those dandified, foreign fops that our _enlightened_ neighbors have taken to parading through _our_ court on any excuse."

While Peter's mouth opened and closed with soundless arguments and retorts, Edmund raised the hilt of his sword to touch his right temple and nodded to the High King. "Light's fading brother."

"Wait!" Peter's voice cut with an edge of desperation. "Ed, how?"

Edmund grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "Peter," he shook his head slowly. "You have to _make_ time. If you do, then they will be there. And so will we."

Leaving a crooked grin in his wake, Edmund resumed his sprint across the camp to the training field.

The sky blue was already deepening as Ed rounded the last row of tents and came upon the practice field. The young dryad was slouched comfortably by the side of a supply dray, carefully oiling the blade of his lightweight sword.

"Hail, Fisrahd!" Ed challenged. "Is that splinter of yours ready for a real match?"

Fiz rolled his eyes. "Ah, my King. A splinter, nay a sliver it may be but victorious it doth be wielded."

Smiling, they clasped hands warmly. Fiz hung his scabbard and belt from a peg on the wagon as Ed did the same, removing his overtunic as well.

Stretching backward to loosen his muscles, the king glanced at his opponent. "Your speech hath become strangely courtly, young dryad."

Grinning, Fiz joined him in the warm-ups. "Your invitation was most formally worded, my liege. I felt it required an appropriate reply."

"That's what I get for sending the message with a courtier." Edmund replied, stepping to the center of the field and reaching out to tap Fiz's blade with his own.

"So! I am supposed to be beneath receiving the honors you have inadvertently given me?" Fiz challenged. His eyes flared and his expression hardened as he danced forward, making a quick stab with the rapier.

Blocking the strike, Edmund danced backward. Fiz, taking advantage, pressed forward. His severe expression worrying the young King. Had he really taken offense at the comment? On the defensive, Ed's sword flashed and sang as the dryad attacked with an unexpected ferocity.

Sweat began to leak down his face, stinging his eyes and tickling the corners of his mouth. A hard knob pressed into the middle of his back. His free hand reached back and felt the spoke of the large front wheel of the supply cart. Had he actually offended the dryad? Fiz's solemn face held his gaze as yet another sequence of attacks flashed outward. On a cross parry, his sword became entangled in the spokes of the cart. In an instant, the dryad's sword flicked out and stopped, lightly touching the cloth of the King's tunic.

Ed bowed his head, yielding the round.

"As you may recall, your Majesty. When first we met, you were threatening the life of she to whom I am bonded." Hard eyes stabbed into Edmund's own as deep inside, a final cold shriek was silenced by a rumbling, guttural roar. "This message is for that which once possessed you. Dryads have long memories to accompany their lives. Do not return, for my new friend would not expect me to spare him should that necessity arise."

Like static from flannel on a cold morning, a crackling pop sounded in the back of Edmund's head. He could feel the pacing lion there stop, settle and begin to purr. The bitter cold against which he stood sentinel slowly fading.

Reaching out, he grasped Fisrahd's hand. "I think... perhaps... just maybe, she got your message. You have my thanks."

Separating, Edmund gestured beyond their corner of the field. "Shall we have another go?"

Twice more, they stepped to the center of the field and crossed swords, and twice more, the dryad bested the young King.

After the latest bout, a boyish grin lit Fiz's face. "I've had a hundred years to practice my swordplay, your Majesty. Every since I was a sapling. I do admit though, for one so new to the art you are quite skilled."

"New?" Edmund spat. "I've spent every spare moment for the last four years drilling with the best swordsmen at Cair Paravel!"

"Sapling!" Fiz cried.

Their final set began with a furious interplay of flashing steel.

Huffing, slightly, Edmund stepped back, watching the muscles of Fiz's chest. "_The eyes are always misleading,"_ the castle's Master at Arms had instructed. _"It's the chest muscles that you should watch. Which ones tense or twitch will tell you far more than where your opponent is looking."_

A slight pull appeared opposite Fiz's sword hand. With a grin, Edmund readied his defense as Fiz feinted.

Edmund blocked the feint with the hilt of his sword then crouched low as Fiz spun towards him, switching hands in a blur and lashing out with his rapier. The king had used the contact of the block as a pivot point to swing his sword upward and into position to block the blade now stabbing from the Dryad's left hand.

Sparks showered the ground as the two blades met, glissading together until their hilts locked between their hands.

"Draw?" Ed asked, panting.

"Draw." Fiz answered.

With a final slight shove, the combatants separated.

Smiling, Edmund opened his arms outward and bowed his head slightly to Fisrahd, who returned the gesture formally, ending the match. Pulling a cloth from his pocket, Edmund carefully wiped down and inspected his blade before returning it to its sheath.

Brushing the sweaty hair from his brow as he walked over, the King lay a brotherly hand on Fiz's shoulder. "Did you get Susan to tell you what is bothering her?"

"No Sire." Fisrahd's tired face fell into a frown. "Since we bonded, we have shared in virtually every thought up until her conversation with the Lion. Since then, she has completely blocked that part of her mind from me."

The dryad gripped the King's arm.

"You're her brother." Fiz pleaded. "Why? I want to help her! Why won't she share this with me?

"While Su never has much trouble voicing her thoughts on matters, she does tend to withdraw when faced with a difficult decision. Have you tried confronting her?"

"I had hoped to, once she had settled back into her tree." Fiz glanced toward the willow dominating the clearing by the stream. "Then with Queen Lucy arriving ill, and the Council... We have not had any time to talk. Whatever it is though, it's tearing her apart inside."

Ed winced at the pain in Fiz's voice.

"And that's tearing me apart as well." The dryad's voice was almost inaudible.

They leaned against the wagon as the last light faded and the stars exploded into full view. The distant sounds of the dryad's preparations for the evening's celebration reached a crescendo as the many musicians tuned and tested their instruments. The first cooling night-breeze swept across the practice field, carrying the faint odor of the bonfires that had been lit.

"I asked Aslan." Fiz's fingers flexed as Ed said the name.

Interest flared in the morose dryad's face. "And?"

"When he wants to, the Lion can be quite cryptic. _ Not even I yet know her path. It is Susan's choice and it is for her to share or struggle on alone._" Edmund replied. "I get the sense that she is faced with a multitude of possible choices. Not just a crossroads but a twisted knot of possibilities, and all of them require her to give something up."

Torchlight flickered on Fiz's face as he searched Ed's expression for answers.

"What? I have no idea, but it is the choice between those loses that disturbs her."

"What do we do?" Fiz's eyes pleaded with the young King more loudly than his voice.

Ed looked at the scared young boy peering out from within the dryad's eyes and saw the echo of a piece of himself. "We do for her what my siblings did for me. We support her, we help where we can, we love her and we pray that is enough to see her through."

_4_

Lucy awoke to the sound of drums and glad cries drifting distantly through the canvas walls of the tent. With a deep sigh she snugged the back of her head down into the pillow. Groggily, she concentrated on music drifting lightly between the percussion and the voices. She could hear pipes and strings being played in a sprightly manner. Laughing voices passed close to her tent reminding her of the mid-summer revels.

With a sharp breath, she sat straight up on her cot, suddenly remembering that tonight was the dryad's fare well celebration for Susan. Bright blue motes danced and squiggled in her vision and she could feel the individual hairs pulling at her scalp. Tightly gripping the rails of the cot, her head felt both hollow and full at the same time.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath and held it. Fading slowly, the swimming lights blinked out one by one leaving only the warm yellow glow of the candle on the side table to penetrate her eyelids. Cautiously, she released the bed and reached a hand up to touch her hair, the contact sending tingly itching signals into her brain.

Turning on the cot she hung her legs over the side, letting her bare toes brush the rug on the tent floor. A dull ache throbbed in her shoulders, drifting slowly down her back. Her movements were clumsy, as if her skin was too heavy.

Sounds outside the pavilion drew the young Queen's attention.

"It is about time," deep weariness colored the female voice outside the tent. "Knowing she'd insist on participating in the revel I thought to bring her a restorative tea."

"Ah, how thoughtful, Tiaana." Mr. Tumnus' voice chuckled lightly. "How is the potion for Susan progressing?"

"Jaevyan is minding the cauldrons now. We made the first combination last hour." Tiaana's tired voice replied.

The tent flap was lifted to one side and against the glow of distant fires the outline of Mr. Tumnus gestured for Tiaana to precede him into the tent.

Tumnus shuffled around the tent lighting more candles as the apothecary approached. In the dim candlelight, the dryad's hair was brassy and unkempt. Lucy could see that her face was smudged with smoke and soot from the fires warming the cauldrons. Her movement was slow and deliberate as she approached the cot.

"Tiaana. Good," Lucy cocked her head. "Evening?"

"Morning, My Lady. It is about an hour past midnight." Tiaana smiled wearily, setting the tea on the table beside Lucy's cot. "Still yet plenty of time for revelry, once I have checked your condition."

Lucy crossed her arms and stared at Tiaana as Mr. Tumnus backed gracefully out of the tent. Tiaana drifted over and lay a cool hand against her forehead.

"How's your throat?" Tiaana's warm voice became crisply professional.

Lucy blinked. Her throat had been sore from the smoke even before leaving Terebinthia. "Numb."

Tiaana raised an eyebrow. "Ah, It will be like that for a day or so while it heals."

Leaning in, the apothecary lay an ear against Lucy's chest. "Deep breath please."

Lucy complied, realizing that her nose, though a bit dry, was now clear and she had no urge to cough.

"Excellent." Tiaana said, straightening beside the cot. "Now, you drink that tea, all of it."

With a smirk, Lucy picked up the steaming mug and took a sip. Her eyes widened as the warm, smoky liquid washed over her tongue and slid down her throat. The light flavor entwined with its enticing aroma, electrifying her senses. A warm glow ignited in her stomach and then spread to her extremities, washing away the deep aches from her illness and last dregs of sleep.

Eyes wide, she looked at the cherry tree dryad. "What is this?"

"An extract and mixture that I only prepare on the rarest of occasions." Tiaana's dark eyes danced with the flickering of the candle by the table. "More than you have there and it will make you ill rather than well. It should only be consumed at pressing need or in unusual circumstance. You must be well for what occurs during the next day and a half and thus, I have prepared it for you."

Lucy nodded her head to the apothecary and then raised the cup and drained it. "I thank you for your kindness and I celebrate your skill."

As soon as Tiaana left, Lucy rummaged through her chest, pulling out the lightweight, knee length dress that she'd had made for the summer revel. Her eyes widened as she looked at herself in the mirror. When she last wore the dress its hem swept demurely between her knees and calves. It was now above her knees.

She frowned as she compared the fit to what her sister had been wearing. Raising her hand, she ran her fingers into the long blond hair that arrayed itself wildly about her head. In the flickering candlelight, her skin and hair glowed golden, matching the fabric of the dress.

Lucy smiled at the image before her. "Tonight Susan won't be the only one with a bit of dryad in her."

Bouncing out of the tent, she snagged Mr. Tumnus and together they swept off toward the raucous music and brightly dancing fires.

_5_

Susan danced.

So long as she was moving, swirling and jumping around the roaring fires, her mind was numb. A blank.

Bow and swing, kick and shuffle.

In motion she could smile and feign happiness. Here, people's shared laughter and joy supplanted the emptiness she feared finding after tomorrow. Her identity lost in the movement, she swung from faun to centaur to dryad around the circle, suddenly finding herself face to face with her brother Ed as a primeval drumbeat vibrated its way through the celebrants.

Edmund spun Susan off her feet and swung her in a wide circle as the formation broke into one of the complex patterns the dryads were fond of weaving. Unerringly, he lead her into the most complex of the interlocking rings of revelers.

Centaurs and Fauns were stomping in time with the drumbeat while the dryads linked elbows and kicked their feet to the tune from the flutes and strings. At regular intervals the percussion would strike hard and at each crash, the dryads would cry out and leap spinning into the air. Slowly the rhythm built in power and speed, feet flashed, showers of sparks rained upward, teeth sparkled and hair whipped wildly about.

Ed's laugh was a challenge and she forced her feet to match with his as the music's pace accelerated. She wasn't ready to dance at this level, yet somehow her brother's confidence and competence gave her a rock steady lead.

High pitched, gay laughter rattled in her ears as Lucy spun through the formation on Fiz's arm. Susan blinked and missed a step before she squashed the dark fears in her mind. Ed caught her arm and deftly guided her stumble into a graceful lift, rotating with the dance and setting her, firmly balanced and positioned to follow into his next spin.

Her sister again swung into sight, briefly orbiting Edmund and herself. Dancing with near complete abandon, her soft yellow hair and golden dress reflecting the firelight, she seemed more dryad than half the tree spirits in the formation. Feeding off of her sister's vibrant joy, Susan redoubled her efforts to keep pace with her brother.

As the music climaxed, it seemed all the dryads were floating and all the other participants were crawling as they lifted and slammed their feet on the ground. Susan abandoned herself completely to the music, leaping and spinning on her brother's arm.

At the next break, Edmund lead her off the lawn. Susan steered him toward the refreshment table and handed him a large cup of fruit drink, grabbing a small one for herself.

The skin of Susan's arms and cheeks burned from the sap thundering within her dryad veins, and her legs trembled from the exertion.

"Thank you. I didn't think dryads ate or drank?" He grinned, panting to catch his breath.

"We can, we just don't need to," she answered. "When did you learn to dance like that?"

Edmund bowed. "Last mid-summer, remember? With Lucy and Tumnus, I escorted Tiaana to the dancing lawn for the revel. The three of them spent the entire night teaching me how to not step on my own feet."

Susan laughed. The joy of it washed all other thoughts from her mind as she imagined the painful lessons. "Ah, so it appears they were successful!"

They stood in companionable silence, sipping their punch, listening to the next set and watching the dancers. Lucy had found her way back to Tumnus and Tiaana was paired with Peter as the music took a more stately tone.

"Lucy will need a new dress for next mid-summer," Edmund commented.

"I think she'd want one anyway, but particularly if she grows any taller in the next few months." Giggling lightly, Susan glanced downward at her own attire. An outfit she would have deemed immodest, if not indecent, a month before. She lightly plucked the fabric outward from her body "I'm not being a very good influence on her. I fear she may wish for something of a similar cut when the time comes."

Ed bowed again, smiling broadly. "Then we shall have to remind our dear younger sister that she is not a dryad and should not dress as if she were one."

From the corner of her eye, she could see him giving her searching glances, but she refused to surrender her good mood to answer his unasked questions.

"What time do you think it is, Ed?" She asked to distract him.

He stared up at the stars drifting overhead, then looked toward the moon, low to the western horizon. "I'd say about five in the morning. We should be seeing the first hints of sunrise soon."

Fiz wandered over, a cup of the punch in his hand. He nodded to her brother and cleared his throat. "Susan, might I have the honor of your company for the next dance?"

Ruthlessly, she squashed the darkness in her mind. He had made her happy and no matter how long or short that lasted, she was going to enjoy that happiness tonight. With a grin for her brother, she took Fiz's cup and set it with hers on the table then took his cool hand in hers and let him lead her back into the blur of moving figures.

Again the music changed, becoming a haunting, romantic melody. Several of the female dryads and centaurs began singing a slow descant as one of the fauns launched into a ballad about the sons' of Frank and their search for companionship. The dancing crowd dispersed leaving swaying couples in their wake to make stately spins around the blazing fires. With a smile, Fiz drew her close and guided their movement along the line of the dance.

Beyond his head she could see the first light of dawn bleaching the deep blue of the sky. One by one, the dimming eastern stars extinguished themselves. By the end of the set, the eastern sky had become an invigorating turquoise. Above the horizon, brilliant orange light flared as the still hidden sun reflected off the early rising clouds.

She felt herself slowly drawn to him until their lips were pressed firmly together. As the warm light washed over the field Susan looked into Fiz's eyes. In a blink she saw a span of lifetimes. Strange places and children, tears and happiness. She saw herself, tall and stately as an old woman standing on a hill overlooking a beautiful valley and there was a smiling face under a blond mop of hair with eyes like those of only one other being she had met, a visage that morphed into a reflection of the Great Lion.

Turning her head, she saw Aslan staring back at her from the circle of those watching the dance. She felt herself drowning in those large expressive eyes. Tearing away from his piercing look she turned back to her partner.

With a huge sob she threw her arms around Fiz and clung to him. Waves of tears washed down her cheeks as he tentatively reached up to enclose her in his arms.

"Oh Rahd." She pressed her eyes against his shoulder, soaking his shirt with her tears.

"Shh. My Little Willow. I'm here for you, now and for always," he whispered.

Words escaped her as she tried to find a way to tell Fiz what she had to do. With a whimper, she slipped out of his grasp and bolted for the trees, leaving him standing stunned in the middle of the crackling fires.


	29. Farewell

**A/N:** Well my friends, it has been a while, but I believe that when you get to the end of this chapter you will agree that the wait has been worth it. There are now 2 chapters and a postscript remaining and I hope to maintain your full attention through to the end. Many thanks to Petraverd, Simetra and Squeaklebeep(Narnia Nut). Until the next one!

**Farewell**

_1_

Blindly, Susan fled through the woods, the flickering bonfires and joyful sounds of the celebration fading mournfully behind her. 

"Oh, Fiz!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face.

Somewhere, in the crowd behind her, she knew that he was still standing, bewildered in the firelight. How? How was she going to tell him?

A small stone skittered out from under her foot, her ankle twisting at the unexpected motion. In a breath, she went from full run to a wild, staggering stumble. With a huge splash, Susan crashed to her hands and knees in the midst of Arisumae's stream. 

Pain lanced through her palms and her right knee felt numb where it had slammed into a rock under the water. She knelt there and sobbed, her salty tears dripping into the pristine water. Warmth soaked into her left shoulder. With a loud sniff, she ground the tears from her eyes against the skin of her upper arms. Blinking them clear, she looked up to see the shimmering form of the naiad crouching alongside her.

"Why?" Susan asked. "I was happy! Why would he put such a choice before me?

Her eyes deep wells of compassion, Ari drifted around in front of the dryad, helping her sit up. Susan began sobbing again.

"He knew! He knew there was only one choice I could make," she wailed into her hands.

Susan reached out, grabbing Arisumae's shoulders, her fingers sinking only slightly into the watery surface. 

"I HATE him," she screamed. 

The water spirit stiffened, her form growing chill against Susan's skin.

"No," the dryad sobbed. "I hate ME!"

Impassive, the naiad met Susan's fury with steadfastness more akin to the rocks that lined her bed than the ephemeral nature of her being. Absorbing the waves of emotion radiating from the dryad, tears beaded at the corners of Ari's eyes and flowed downward over her watery cheeks.

"I could be happy staying a dryad. I never thought I would say that, but it's true. This new life is so... So wonderful." Susan squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. "But my siblings. I can't abandon them. Peter and his noble need to be in control of everything. Edmund, who will remind him that he really has changed on those times when he hides in the dark corners. And Lucy. How can I turn my back on her? She'd be devastated if I stayed here with my tree."

Arisumae knelt in the water across from Susan, looking up into her eyes. Reaching out, she took the dryad's hands and gripped them tightly in her own. Susan turned away, staring down at the stream as it flowed by.

"Aslan said he would not be upset if that was my choice. But Ari, his eyes. As he said it, his eyes seemed dead. Like all joy would fade from the world if that was my choice." Susan looked up, pleading for the naiad to understand.

Arisumae pulled her close, her touch warming the dryad's skin.

"I can... I should return fully to what I was before. I am... I was human, that was stolen from me, through no fault of my own." Her voice hardened. "I have a right to be restored entirely, to my complete self!"

The water spirit nodded, her face still firmly supportive.

"I can save her." Susan whispered.

For the first time, Arisumae's expression changed as she spoke with a soft voice. "Who?" 

Susan released the naiad's hands and stood, slowly walking alongside the stream. Ari rose and drifted alongside her. Silently, they followed the path to the edge of the great circle of rhododendrons. Susan stopped, staring through the thick shrubbery toward the tree that was once home to the last vestige of Fiz's sister. Somewhere, there was a family of willow dryads mourning the loss of another sister.

"The dryad who was part of the potion that made me like this. I have the ability to bring her back. But to do so, I have to give her a part of myself." Tears welled once more in her eyes.

Susan flung her arms around Arisumae, not caring about the water spirit's soaking her completely.

"Why does that choice make you want to hate yourself and Aslan?" Ari's voice was a still, quiet whisper in her ear.

Susan sobbed, choking briefly on the water she inhaled from the naiad's shoulder. When her throat cleared, she looked up once more into Arisumae's eyes. As she did so, the deep pain grew once more in her chest.

"I can't live with the thought that I couldn't save her, but Aslan will only accept the very best part of myself to do so. And that... That is the part that... That loves Fiz!"

Looking into Ari's eyes, Susan remembered that she was Fiz's best friend. Muscles across her chest pulled tighter, even here she was too close to him. With a wail, she shook free from Arisumae's embrace, once more crashing half-blindly through the woods.

  
_2_

Dawn flooded across the dancing lawn. With the sun's brilliant illumination, the musicians joined together to bring the revel to a close in one final raucous set. Glad cries erupted from the participants as dryads, centaurs, fauns, satyrs, three humans, and animals of all descriptions rushed to find partners for the last dance.

In the midst of the melee, shoulders slumped, stood one lone, silent figure.

Edmund spied him from the periphery, where he had just handed Lucy off to Tumnus. Her trilling laughter still ringing in his ears. His grin fell as he recognized the figure staring off into the woods.

Sensing that the situation might require a more authoritative touch, Ed made a beeline for the sandy mop of hair that marked his brother's location across the field. Arriving, he found Peter bemusedly confronted by a rosy cheeked young dryad. The long pink ribbons woven into her flaxen hair perfectly accenting the silky, diaphanous gown and pale complexion. Her large doe eyes flashed brief fire at Edmund's interruption, until she recognized him and her smile lit like the sun rising beyond the trees.

Making apologies to the sappily besotted young dryad who had hoped to partner the High King on the final turn, Edmund extricated him from the final set. Leaving the greatly disappointed female dryad in their wake, he steered Peter toward the devastated Fiz, taking a moment to fill his brother in on the situation.

"So you see, Peter. Aslan has Su facing a choice where she doesn't like any of the options." Ed concluded.

Peter stopped walking and stared at Edmund. "I don't see how we..." the King began to protest.

"Because Susan is being Susan. She's retreating from those who can most help her with the problem." Edmund answered.

Peter looked thoughtfully at the upset young dryad.

"Make time." He muttered under his breath.

The younger King flashed him a quick glance. "Beg pardon?"

"Your advice, dear brother." Peter replied. "Make time."

Squaring his shoulders, the High King marched off around the periphery of the dancing lawn to the refreshment table, where Fisrahd had retreated. Jogging to catch up, Ed trailed his brother past the swirling mass of revelers.

Fiz leaned dejectedly against a large maple, staring at the golden crowned willow in the middle of the clearing. The limbs of the maple seemed to droop downward, draped consolingly across his shoulders.

Peter moved up before him as a ship to a dock. Purposefully, but with great care.

"Ser Ashe." The High King nodded his head. "Elder Robur tells me that you have taken an oath of service to my sister."

Ed watched as the dryad's head slowly raised, bringing Fiz's eyes in line with Peter's shoulder.

"Aye, my liege." Fiz's flat voice answered. "We bonded so that I might protect her from the predations of the Hags and their allies."

"And that was your only motivation in doing so?" Ed observed as Peter's eyes narrowed and his voice hardened.

Fiz's eyes flickered upward and meeting the King's steely gaze, he flinched.

"No sir," the dryad answered.

"No?" Peter snapped, looking out over the top of the dryad's head. "Perhaps you have feelings for her?"

Edmund's eyes widened at his brother's vicious line. 

"Peter? What are you..." Ed whispered.

The High King shot his younger brother a swift look and subtly shook his head. Uncertain, Ed subsided in his questioning, but prepared himself to defend the dryad. Just in case.

Oblivious to the interplay between the siblings, Fiz slowly nodded his head.

"Y...Your Majesty. I am in love with Susan," he mumbled.

Fiz's downcast eyes did not catch Peter's blink at the lack of honorific in the dryad's statement, but Edmund caught both the High King's reaction and the tree spirit's clearly implied meaning. 

Crossing his arms, Peter quickly restored his stern demeanor. "So you are willing to fight and die for the life of my sister?"

Fiz straightened and met Peter's steely gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty!" He answered firmly.

Edmund inhaled sharply as he recognized the look on his brother's face. Peter's visiage had softened very slightly. He could see his brother's eyes were now focused deep into the dryad's expression. The mixed tension of disappointment, barely suppressed anger, and imminent terse instructions on how to rectify ones failure palpably radiated outward from the elder Pevensie. A smile ticked at the corner of Ed's mouth, but he suppressed it, now seeing where his brother was aiming.

A corner had been turned, Peter had accepted the young dryad as worthy of cultivation. Fiz wasn't aware of it yet, but the High King had just kicked down the doors that stood before him. The decision to cross that threshold however, lay with the young dryad.

One of Peter's hands fell to caress the lion-head pommel of his sword.

"To be worthy of our sister, you must also be willing to risk all for her affection." 

_3_

Tiaana opened her bleary eyes to find a local dryad squeezing her hand. Groggily she shook her head as the other tree spirit's energy flowed into her.

"Oh, good. You just lie there dearie." A pleasant, chatty voice spoke. "The Centauress has the process well in hand." 

Tiaana looked away from the handsome, young, maple dryad. Her eyes traced the voice to a familiar, willow dryad.

"You're... You're, uh..." The apothecary wracked her brain, searching for the willow dryad's name.

"Siandra, dearie," the willow supplied. "I was bringing Jaevyan some dinner when you collapsed, and since I'd just gotten here with that nice young Susan and her dashing Fisrahd, I, of course, immediately recognized what happened."

Smiling, Tiaana lay back against the pillow as the talkative willow prattled on. Slowly, she reached out to touch the warm energy the maple was sharing.

As she lay there, she watched the Centaur Priestess bustle from pot to cauldron, stirring the various mixtures, adding a pinch of a powder here or a carefully measured amount of a different ingredient there.

Vapors of varied hues drifted above the simmering mixtures, curling into the morning light as it slanted across the glade. Jaevyan slowly poured the contents of two smaller cauldrons into separate, clear glass containers which she carefully sealed with cork and wax. The two liquids, one peach in color, the other a pale green, were carefully set upon a side rack to cool for later usage.

After further stirring, the centaur summoned the assistance of one of her kindred who helped her pour the contents of two of the middle sized pots together into the largest of the cauldrons they had brought from Cair Paravel. Gray steam slowly morphed to red, rising above the simmering mixture as the contents of the second container were added. The final series of combinations had begun.

Tiaana turned her head to look at the nearby Willow tree. Soon, soon Susan would be restored to herself and maybe... She offered a silent prayer to the Emperor Beyond the Sea that the poor willow, who's sad destruction had initiated their current plight, might be restored.

Feeling somewhat better, the cherry tree dryad tried to sit up. "There's so much to be done."

Siandra's hand raced out to grab her shoulder and hold her in the bed.

"All is well." Jaevyan spoke. "Both of the extracts Aslan requested have been completed and I do not yet require your assistance for the final combination."

"You should sleep a bit, dearie. I will wake you when you are needed." The willow reassured her.

Tiaana subsided back onto her cot, smiling at the pale maple with his long, silvery hair.

"You have my thanks, good sir."

"I am honored to have been able to assist one so important as yourself, dear lady." The maple dryad replied.

With a grateful sigh, she subsided into the warmth of his ethereal embrace.

_4_

The bright summer sun filtered through the thick leaves of Susan's willow as Peter settled at the table to take his nooning meal. Warm breezes blew gently through the glade, lightly rustling the leaves of the willow above his head.

Several dryads glided into the shade of the tree to set platters of fruits, bread and meats on the table. With a grin, he recognized the dryad from the morning's aborted dance.

"Thank you Mericu," he said, recalling her name. "I am sorry we did not get to dance this moring."

The dryad's cheeks flushed a bright rose at his greeting. She seemed about to say something when her eyes hardened and with a flounce she turned and marched out from under the tree.

"Hail, brother!" Edmund greeted, diving headlong into a chair and mounding meat, cheese and bread on his plate.

With a final, somewhat wistful look, Peter tore his eyes away from where the flaxen haired dryad had disappeared.

"You really should know better, brother." Ed mumbled around his bite of sandwich.

Peter's head snapped around to face his brother. "How so?" 

Ed quickly swallowed the mouthful, his throat visibly swelling around its passage. "Just because Su has found a worthy companion among the dryads doesn't mean they are all of the same quality."

The elder Pevensie cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. "Would you care to be a little less cryptic?"

Ed took a swallow of the wine that had been provided with the meal. "Surely you can see that she's only interested in the High King and not in Peter Pevensie?"

Peter's eyes narrowed as he growled his reply. "Since you're so observant, would you mind clueing me in on the signs?"

Edmund sat back and stopped chewing. After a moment, he chewed a couple more times and then swallowed again. "Well, there's the possessive way she stares at you, to begin with. Like you're a piece of fancy jewelry she really would love to have."

Peter nodded. "And?"

"Every time she comes near you, she makes a point of stopping to check that her appearance is perfect.' Ed rolled his eyes and popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. "Anyone who tries to be that visually flawless to get your attention is way too shallow to maintain your interest beyond a couple of dances."

With a grimace, Peter shook his head then turned back to the meal before him. His brother took another bite of his sandwich, glanced around surreptitiously and then leaned over to whisper in the High King's ear.

"Plus, I have it on good authority, from a reliable source that she was boasting all of yesterday how the High King was going to love the dress she had chosen for last night's revel and how she fully expected to be asked to give up her tree to be _your_ queen."

Peter nearly choked on the wine he was drinking. He could feel the sting of the liquid as it climbed into his nose. Eyes watering, he forced himself to swallow. With his throat clear, he suddenly had the urge to sneeze violently.

A small, soft hand rested on Peter's shoulder. Eyes watering he looked up to see his sister fumbling in the folds of her dress. After a moment Lucy handed her eldest brother one of her endless supply of handkerchiefs. Flopping ungracefully into one of the other chairs, she began to pull bits of fruit and bread onto her plate.

Peter sneezed several times into the cloth. Looking down, he happened to notice an embroidered 'T' in the corner. To his left, Edmund was laughing uproariously.

"So brother?" Lucy looked over at the wildly laughing Edmund. "What has amused you now?"

"Ah Lu." Edmund schooled his face into a dire expression. "Our dear brother has just been reminded of one of the great perils of being High King."

"Perils?" Lucy looked puzzled for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Oh, you mean Mericu?"

Peter groaned and tried to slide out of sight beneath the table.

"Your Majesties." Fisrahd stepped through the fringe of the willow and bowed.

His face burning with embarrassment, Peter straightened in his chair then half rose, acknowledging the dryad's greeting. Briefly, their eyes met, and after their morning's conversation he understood much of what he saw in Fiz's eyes.

"Has Susan still not returned?" Peter inquired.

Slowly, the dryad walked to the bole of the willow and lay a caressing hand against its bark. To Peter's left Edmund's suppressed snickers cut off as by a switch and a light sniffle came from Lucy's seat. Without looking, he knew that both his siblings were deeply effected by the raw emotion in Fiz's movements.

The tree itself seemed to sense Fiz's disquiet and the nearest limb drooped to rest a swath of fronds across his shoulder. He rested his forehead against the bark as a lone tear broke loose and traced along his nose.

"No, your majesty. Susan still blocks herself from me. I can feel her anguish, but I cannot reach her to soothe it." His hand sank into the bark of the tree as he spoke, as if the tree were grabbing it to support him.

A sob broke out to Peter's left and Lucy bolted from her seat to hug the distraught dryad. Somehow she managed to include the tree in the hug as well. She fumbled in the folds of her gown for her handkerchief before remembering that she had given it to Peter. Taking the end of her sleeve, she dabbed the corners of Fiz's eyes.

"There, there." She crooned softly. "Susan will let you back in."

The moist gurgling sound from the far side of the tree increased in volume and Peter leaned out for a clear view past the Willow's trunk. Arisumae was slowly walking away from her stream, a thin line of water trailing behind her across the ground. She bowed to Peter and Edmund then turned to join Fiz and Lucy. Peter and Edmund both rose and joined the others by the trunk.

"Dear, dear Fisrahd." Arisumae's voice was a low burble. "Though she refuses to admit it yet, Susan needs to talk with you."

"How?" Fiz sobbed softly. "She's blocking me, so I can't find her."

Arisumae cocked her head and for a brief moment she laughed lightly. "My lovely Fiz." She reached out a hand to caress his cheek. "There is more than one way to find out where she has gone."

The dryad looked up. "How?"

The naiad's eyes danced. "Ask me."

Fiz's eyes widened and his cheeks bronzed. "That's not funny Ari! I just did."

Peter reached out and lay his hand on Fiz's shoulder. Suppressing his own chuckle, he reentered the conversation. "That's not what she meant Fiz."

A loud huffing and the clatter of faun hooves came from behind them.

"Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy exclaimed. "Is anything wrong."

The faun paused, breathing heavily. After a moment, he was able to speak, though his chest continued to heave between sentences. "Jaevyan and Tiaana have finished the potion. They sent me to find Queen Susan. No one has seen her since the dawn at the dance." His hands clutched at a stitch in his side.

Lucy patted Fiz once on the back and glided over to her dearest friend, guiding him to a chair and setting wine in front of him. "We know." She replied. "Susan is conflicted about the restoration and has sought to be alone to come to grips with the change that must occur."

"I've been sent to gather her. Tiaana says that time is now short, the final step must be taken ere dusk this evening. I have to bring her back before then." The faun's protestations continued.

"No Tumnus." Fiz spoke firmly from beside the tree. "I must bring her back."

Fiz stood up from the kneeling position he had fallen into and took the naiad's hand.

"Ari, will you show me where to find Susan?"

_5_

Recovered from her earlier collapse, Tiaana oversaw the construction of a large fire in the clearing near Susan's willow. A thick, glowing bed of coals would be required to finish the potion once the cauldrons were transferred here and combined.

For the third time, she reached down and touched her bag. Within it were two vials Aslan had instructed her to prepare. The peach vial would numb Susan's dryad senses and allow her to succumb to the final stage of the potion without pain, to be reborn again as human. The green would also shield her against the heat of the mixture, but it would then carve out a distinct portion of Susan's spirit to be shared with what they had managed to recover of the Willow Dryad from the Hag's potion. If Susan chose that vial, then the essence of the Willow Dryad would be added to the mixture as well and both Susan and the Willow would be reborn.

Tiaana looked deep inside herself. If it were not the only way to affect Susan's restoration, and if Aslan himself did not approve of what they were doing, she would never have considered trying what they were about to attempt. Rendering spirits was a nightmare only Hags did. Something that dryad parents told their children to make them behave.

King Peter stepped out from the shade of the tree and walked over to her.

"Any word yet on finding Queen Susan, your Majesty?" Tiaana asked.

"None yet, Tiaana." He replied "How are the preparations?"

"The fire should be ready within the hour. The cauldrons will be brought here as soon as I call." She stared deep into the glowing fire as several fauns loaded more wood onto the pile.

"Tiaana, I know you've worked very hard on this. If it doesn..." The High King's voice broke as he gave voice to the very fear that kept her staring into the fires.

She reached out and gripped his elbow. "Jaevyan is confident of our success and Aslan says the only question lies with Queen Susan."

Silence fell over part of the clearing, drawing their attention. Tiaana spotted Susan walking slowly, as if in a daze. Her olive skin seemed dull against the background of greenery and her hair was strung out with bits of twig and leaf caught within it. The tracks of tears stained her cheeks as she stumbled her way slowly forward.

Many approached as if to offer their help, but all stopped short and stood aside to let her pass. Tiaana felt Peter begin to move towards her and she tightened her grip on his arm. "King Peter, wait for her under the willow, let me go to her first."

Peter turned to meet the apothecary's gaze, seeking reassurance that she knew what she was about to do. Tiaana nodded to him, patting the hand that had reached up to grab her own. The High King nodded, turned on his heel and marched back to the tree to prepare his siblings for Susan's arrival.

The apothecary walked towards the dryad Queen. Approaching, she could sense the intense waves of sadness radiating outward that had prevented others from approaching. As the sensation became like a wall before her, Tiaana stiffened her posture and pushed through the resistance. Susan's sobs reached her ears.

Blinded by her own tears, Susan stumbled within reach of the Cherry Tree Dryad. Under the bright afternoon sunshine, Tiaana swept her into a hug and pulled the Queen's head down on her shoulder.

"I've made my choice." Susan whispered between sobs.

Tiaana held her, refusing to let her body react to her Queen's words.

"The willow..." Susan sobbed. "I'm giving up Fiz! The willow will live."

Susan's sob turned into a wail and she collapsed to the ground. Tumnus came running over from beneath the tree where he'd been in consultations with the Royal Family. Tiaana waved him back, handing him her bag. 

"See to the fires," Tiaana instructed, "while I see to Queen Susan."

Summoning her strength, she gently lifted her Queen and carried her beneath the shade of the willow tree. Sensing Susan's mood, the willow tree began to shiver as if it too were sobbing. Tiaana carried her to the tree itself and eased her inside, where the connection could heal the self-inflicted wound to her heart.

The apothecary took a seat by the trunk and leaned there, radiating waves of comfort and friendship into the bole where Susan lay huddled. 

The afternoon wore on. Four centaurs brought forth the largest of the great iron cauldrons and set it upon the fire. Jaevyan came out and supervised the preparation of the final mixture. One by one, the large pots were brought forth and poured into the great one. Tiaana noted the presence of the stone decanter that held the recovered essence of the willow dryad. 

She saw Aslan and Fisrahd both walking among the trees beyond the camp. By the slump to the young dryad's shoulders, it was clear that Susan had told him of her decision. Tiaana wanted to speak with them both. The Lion to seek reassurance and the dryad to provide comfort, but neither of them approached the willow.

As the sun sank toward the horizon, the dryads and soldiers began to gather in the clearing. Peter walked under the tree. "Jaevyan says that it is time."

The High King proffered his hand to her and Tiaana accepted his assistance to rise. As she brushed herself off, a composed Susan stepped from within her tree.

"I am ready." The dryad Queen stated.

Peter reached out to his sister's arm. "Shall I..."

"I have said my goodbyes Peter, please don't make this any harder." Susan's facade cracked for a moment and the deep pain returned to her eyes.

"Very well. We will be here to welcome your return." He leaned forward and hugged her stiffly.

Tiaana lead Susan out to the great cauldron, its contents boiling over the glowing coals and flames.

Tiaana retrieved her bag from Tumnus and came to stand beside Jaevyan, facing Susan.

"Susan. Much has been taken from thee that may now be restored." The centauress leaned forward, her hard gaze dissecting the Queen's mental state. "Ye now stand before a threefold choice. A dryad ye are and may remain and a human ye were and may yet become. Yet to have become a dryad from a human required an act of violation against a dryad innocent. The third choice before ye would restore that dryad through the offering of a portion of thine spirit."

The Centaur Priestess paused. "What say ye, Susan Pevensie?"

Susan stood as a stone before the assembled Narnians. Slowly her head tilted back as she raised her eyes to meet Jaevyan's. 

Her voice hoarse and tired, Susan spoke with the pride of who she was and, more importantly, had become. "The willow shall live, I give her freely of my spirit for the gift of having been a dryad."

Tiaana reached into her bag and retrieved the potion that would prepare Susan for the sundering. With a slight tremor, the Queen took it from her hand. Fear flashed through her eyes as she removed the stopper, then resolve set in and she downed the drink in a single swallow.

Reaching out, Tiaana clasped Susan's hand as the potion took effect. Slowly, she collapsed to the ground, but the apothecary refused to release her hand.

Jaevyan leaned over and picked up the limp dryad body and slowly carried her over to the bubbling pot. "Queen Susan, I honor ye." Leaning over, the centauress eased the Queen into the liquid.

As Susan was gently lowered into the simmering cauldron, Tiaana continued to cling to her hand. Long after the dryad Queen had succumbed to the mixture, the apothecary stood beside the pot, cradling and staring at her hand. The last contact with her Queen and friend. Jaevyan walked up with the stone decanter, paused for a moment then poured the willow dryad's essence into the potion.

Four centaurs threaded poles through rings on the cauldron and lifted it to their shoulders. As one they turned and walked to the base of the willow tree. Jaevyan stepped before them and raised her arms.

"In the name of the Emperor Beyond the Sea we beg the restoration of our sisters to us." Jaevyan's voice came deep and husky from her time spent by the fires over the last several days. "With your Son's blessing, we beseech your intercession on behalf of Susan, that she may be remade whole and the Willow, that what was taken from her may be returned."

The centaurs slowly tilted the pot draining it's contents on the ground in a circle around the base of the tree. The clouds overhead drifted away to the west and the last light of the long set sun faded to black.

Tianna sensed movement beside her, a warm puff of breath and a gentle rumbling purr.

"Susan has made her choice." Aslan's quiet voice wrapped itself around her. "You have done your work well, Daughter. What happens now is in my Father's hands."


	30. Rebirthday

**A/N:** Wow, this has been a tougher chapter to pound out than I expected. Between my betas having real life draw them away and wanting to get this moment 'just right' it has taken me about a month longer than intended. I now have about two weeks to finish and edit the last chapter and the postscript. I bid a fond welcome to all new readers just discovering this story after seeing 'Prince Caspian'. Many thanks again go to Straitjackit, Petraverd, and the crowd at 'thelionscall . com'.

**Rebirthday**

_1_

Low murmurs of conversation strained through the heavy air, brushing unintelligibly against Lucy's ears. Here and there around the circle, a low burning torch would gutter in the chill evening breeze then flare briefly. The dim, orange glow of the failing fire faded to darkness at her feet. Under the weight of the night's atmosphere, insects had fallen silent and even the cheerful bubbling of Arisumae's brook had become muffled. The gay warmth of the previous evening's party had given way to a cool dampness under the baleful blue light of the full moon.

Shivering lightly against the night breeze, Lucy hunched her back and stared past the dim fire to the gray willow. Stiffness and aches from the injuries and her recent illness flowed through her tired body. Slowly, she rolled her shoulders and watched the silvery fog as it drifted upward, tracing the meandering path of the stream through the clearing. Where Arisumae passed beneath the tree, the vapors rose through the limbs, gently escaping to form a mist above the Willow.

Tilting her head back, the joints in her neck popped as she watched the breeze tear wisps from the cloud above the tree, drifting them past the glowing moon, softening its harsh light with night bows and moondogs. Lucy had always loved night in Narnia. From the time she and Tumnus had fled from discovery by the White Witch, even before she first knew Aslan, she had known in the depths of her being that there was nothing in this land that could hurt her. Things might try, as had the Hags in their misdirected attack against Susan, but the inherent strength of the land's goodness would always be there to comfort and protect her.

Lucy's normal joy at the peace and beauty of nighttime in Narnia found itself suppressed as even the world resonated with the desperate hope she shared with her subjects. A hope that she now knew had been supplanted by loss and loneliness in one of her companions.

Feeling Fiz shiver beside her, she reached out, lacing her fingers in his and taking a tight grip on his hand. He too had been staring at the rising mists.

"It's like her spirit is drifting up into the moonlight." His hoarse whisper was barely audible above the silence.

Moonlight glistened off haunted eyes framed in his pale face as Lucy turned to the young dryad. Looking into his eyes, she could see the joy her sister had experienced in his presence. Though his skin was cool against her hand, the warmth of his spirit radiated outward in palpable waves. He tore his gaze away from her, returning it to the willow tree. The young Queen could feel his yearning to be there. His need to hold her sister as she went through the transition.

"Susan's choice," she whispered, pulling the dryad's hand into her lap and wrapping it in both of hers. "Never believe that she does not love you. Peter, Edmund, myself, we all do. What you have done for her this past month..."

Tears welled in Lucy's eyes as she absorbed Fisrahd's pain.

Fiz sighed raggedly. "I know what it is like to lose family."

The weight of those words lay across the two of them. Lucy could taste his fear for her and her brothers should Susan not survive, her heart pounding in sympathy for the losses he had already endured.

Reflected in the firelight, alone on the far side of the clearing, Aslan lay quietly. Lucy's eyes met those of the Great Lion and the sudden fear released its iron grip on her chest. The Lion tilted its great head slightly and his eyes flicked to the dryad and back. Slowly, he blinked and then nodded. With a contented sigh, Aslan settled his head onto his forepaws and closed his eyes.

Lucy fell silent, words could not say enough to convey what the dryad needed to know. Gently, she lay her head against Fiz's shoulder, letting her own quiet tears slowly leak onto his tunic. Aslan's reaction seemed to be telling her that it was enough. For Fiz's sake, she prayed that it was.

To their right, a dark figure stood up from those gathered. Approaching the fire, the shape leaned in and lay a new log across the coals. Lucy felt Fiz's involuntary shiver as a flare of sparks rose, illuminating Edmund's somber face. Straightening, he stretched then turned to face the tree. Briefly, the mist cleared and bright moonlight bounced off his figure, outlining him with his own silvery glow. After a moment, he turned, nodded somberly to the dryad then walked back to where Peter sat on a log staring at the base of the Willow tree.

The freshening breeze swirled damp columns of fog among those keeping vigil. Lucy shivered again as the cool, moist air surrounded her. From where he was sitting to her left, Mr. Tumnus leaned over and rummaged in a bag by his feet. Pulling out a light cloak, he draped it over her shoulders, his warm hands lingering companionably on her shoulders.

Lucy gently extricated one of her hands from Fiz's. Snugging the cloak more securely about her shoulders she then reached up to grip the faun's hand. In that firm clasp, she could feel her dearest friend's quiet strength and she clung to it, trying to channel it through herself and into the dryad. She sat between them, the faun close on her left and the dryad even closer on her right. Receiving comfort from her best friend while providing the same to this very special dryad, she once more felt deeply and intimately connected to the world.

Stars spun slowly, the moon rose higher and the chill deepened. Lucy let her eyes drift shut as she concentrated on connecting with her two friends.

"Midnight." Mr. Tumnus' gentle voice whispered in her left ear awakening the young Queen from her false doze.

CRACK!

Lucy jumped as the shattering noise of breaking wood echoed across the clearing. Moments later it was chased by a crescendoing wave of muffled conversations. In the center of the clearing the willow tree shivered, its leaves dancing light and dark in the moonlight.

A stifled gasp escaped from Fiz's lips, followed by a heavy sob. Lifting her head from the dryad's shoulders she looked into his tear filled eyes. Her own heart breaking, she clung to his hand, even as he tried to pull it free. He sobbed again and great tears broke free, tracing shimmering, quicksilver trails down his pale cheeks.

"She's gone." Fisrahd mumbled, his voice breaking.

Lucy's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes wide, she clung more tightly to his hand. "G-gone?"

Oblivious to the panic his words had created in Lucy's heart Fiz sniffled heavily, his free-flowing tears breaking free from his chin and splashing softly against his tunic. Needing to be comforted as much as to provide it, Lucy pulled him close, holding him tightly and cradling his head against her shoulder, her sleeve quickly becoming damp with the dryad's silent anguish. Tumnus released her hand, reaching around Lucy to clasp Fiz's arm and hugging her between them.

"The bond connection." Fiz moaned. "I can't reach her. I can't feel her."

Lucy felt additional warm, strong arms reaching in to add their comfort. Her eyes brushed lightly across Edmund's stolid expression before locking on Peter's eyes. Commanding eyes, themselves brimming with tears for Fiz's loss.

The connection Lucy had worked through the evening to create slammed open, her heart growing and hollowing in her chest. She sobbed into the dryad's hair, the empty fullness expanding to encompass her brothers and Mr. Tumnus as well. At this terrible moment, when the longed for future could never be, Fisrahd Ashe had become family.

_2_

The sun broke over the clearing, morning breezes racing outward before it. They whistled through the tops of the trees, pulling at the white vapors caught in the uppermost branches of the full and bushy willow. Refusing to relinquish its prize, the breeze strengthened until the gossamer mist broke free and floated away on the currents.

The rising sun now shown through breaks in the trees, gracing the top of the willow with a golden crown of light. Birds began chirping and soon a small flock had taken roost in the willow's branches. Under the fronds of the tree, the stream burbled happily by.

In a wide circle about the tree stood a great host of the people of Narnia. From the tops of one of the trees, a high voice rose in solo, singing a song of welcome to the new day. Soon the bird was joined by other voices. The high pitches of sparrows and wrens mixed with the barking squeaks of the tree squirrels. As the light traced downward along the brilliant green foliage deeper voices joined in. The centaur's booming basso tones supporting the tenor of the fauns. Last of all, the trees and dryads raised their alto song, pouring all of their hope into the music.

Looking across the clearing, Tiaana was momentarily lost in Queen Lucy's eyes. The youngest Pevensie's mouth was agape as the solemn sound wove its magic around her. Her brothers too, seemed to be at a loss. Soon though, Lucy's soft soprano voice was lilting along above those of the fauns, instinctively weaving into the morning melody. With a smile, she noted that the two kings were humming and swaying as well. The apothecary raised her own voice in concert with the others as she committed the moment to memory. Whether the result of their attempt be for good or for ill, she wanted to savor this moment. In heart and voice, all of Narnia was one.

As the song concluded, Jaevyan nodded to her and gestured toward the willow tree. Tiaana closed her eyes a moment then turned and walked to where the Monarchs had gathered around the mournful young ash dryad.

His somber features stood out against the carefully stoic expressions the others wore. Not daring to appear too hopeful, lest the Queen's restoration not be successful, the Narnians stood as a blank slate compared to Fisrahd's obvious pain. Carefully, she lay a hand on his shoulder. Until now, Tiaana had never missed having a bond-mate among the trees. Standing before this heartbroken youth though, awoke that deeply suppressed desire. In a short month, he had held and lost something that she missed out on for a lifetime. Before her mind could become lost in the unfathomable what-ifs, she turned to Queen Lucy and her brothers. Her lingering fingers slowly slipped from the ash-dryad's arm.

"Your Majesties, it is time," Tiaana bowed.

With a final hug for Fiz, Lucy extricated herself from the group. Grabbing the bag that had lain by Tumnus' feet through the night, she followed Tiaana and the Centaur Priestess into the shadow beneath the willow's crown. Arisumae rose from her stream, following as well.

As they stepped beneath the tree, the apothecary stifled a gasp. A thick branch, like a second trunk had swollen outward from the side of the main bole. As they stood and watched, the connection between the parallel stems slowly unzipped, the bark healing over the break as they separated.

With a final rip, the two parts of the willow were sundered. The smaller bole slowly leaned outward. Its movement accelerated and the former piece of the willow fell gracefully to the ground beneath the tree.

Cut off from its root source, the limb rapidly shriveled, contracting until the bark outlined the human female figure enclosed within. Lucy moved forward to pull the bark from her sister's form but Jaevyan reached out a hand to restrain her.

"Wait, my child. There is not much longer yet."

The wooden shell continued to shrink over the body within it. With a cracking noise, the bark split open, allowing light and air to reach through to the new pink skin beneath.

Jaevyan released Lucy and nodded. Tiaana joined her as she gently stripped away all of the bark, freeing the reborn Susan from her cocoon.

Kneeling beside the still form, the centauress lay a gentle hand on the Queen's chest. At the touch, Susan took a deep breath and her eyes fluttered open. Tiaana too knelt and lay a hand against her forehead. The skin seemed to be warm and drier than what Tiaana recalled as normal. Reaching for her bag, the apothecary began gently working a moisturizing cream into the Queen's new skin.

"Water," Susan whispered as Tiaana worked.

The dryad looked up and nodded to Lucy who pulled a cup from the bag, handing it to the naiad. Arisumae filled it, handing it over to the apothecary.

Gently, Tiaana and the younger Queen helped Susan to sit up and slowly sip the water.

"Easy, your Majesty," Tiaana warned. "Such changes are not easy on the body, you should take each step slowly.

Gazing down at her now pale, pink body, Susan reached up and wove fingers into her long raven hair. Pulling it around in front of her, she studied it carefully.

"Am I..."

"Human?" Jaevyan smiled. "Yes child. You have been restored."

Tiaana's stomach flipped as a subtle nausea she hadn't realized having suddenly vanished. Her arms fell limp to her sides as the muscles that held them up drooped like wet grass.

"Are you all right?" Lucy's concern broke the apothecary out of the unexpected sensations.

With a brilliant smile, Tiaana swept Lucy into a hug. "It worked!"

The near debilitating worry banished, the apothecary helped Susan rise to her feet. Once her sister was steady, Lucy reached into the bag, pulled out a light gown and together they helped the restored Queen dress.

_3_

Susan coughed lightly, her throat still scratchy and dry. She lightly traced the fingers of her right hand along her arm, shivering as the hairs there slowly caught at the skin of her hands and tripped against her nerve endings. As a dryad, her skin had been smooth and cool, now it felt hot and rough like the bark of her tree.

Shaking her head lightly, she looked over at the willow. Her _former_ tree.

Tiaana lay a hand against her shoulder, having read the expression on the Queen's face. "It will always be your tree. You've been a dryad, your Majesty. Being and thinking human again will take some adjustment."

Susan sighed. "You are right. Because of the month that it was my home, it will always be my tree, and I shall miss it."

She walked stiffly over to the willow and draped her arms around the rough bark of the trunk, savoring the stinging bite of the wood against her soft skin. After a time, her sister came over and lay her head against her left arm.

"Susan?" A subtle catch hung in the air after Lucy spoke.

"Yes Lu?"

"I'm. I am sorry. Meertz was after me."

Susan released her grip on the tree. As much as she felt like she needed what she had found here in this glade, she realized that even though her sister was not thirteen, Lucy still needed her older sister even more. Reaching out, she pulled Lucy into a tight hug.

"This will not be easy for either of us Lu." She whispered into her sister's hair. Straightening, Susan looked over to Jayevan and Tiaana, she could hear the people milling about across the clearing. "We've kept them waiting long enough."

As they stepped through the fronds, Susan shrugged off the supporting hands that the others had reached out to her. Blinking the blindingly bright sun from her eyes, she heard and felt, more than saw Edmund and Peter bellow their welcome to the broad blue sky before they bolted forward to sweep her into an intimate, brotherly hug.

As they danced and swayed with their sisters, Fiz walked slowly up to the smiling family. His shoulders were slumped and his head stared at the ground at their feet.

"Susan?" The dryad's voice cracked as he mumbled her name.

Susan released her brothers and stood still, facing him. Remembered feelings and sensations flowed inward from her limbs, but the memories didn't carry the same weight as the original emotions.

"Fiz." She said softly, a small smile caressing her face.

Her brothers and the others moved away, giving her and the dryad a modicum of privacy. Ed, reached out and slipped an arm around Lucy's shoulders, instinctively seeking comfort for the pain that radiated palpably outward from the young dryad.

The ash dryad's head came up, hope filling his eyes. She could see how much he loved her in the way his eyes focused on her to the exclusion of everything else in the glade. He reached out to take her hand.

"Are you...You again?" He asked quietly.

Su closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She wanted those feelings back. She knew he was someone very special and what they had shared, brief though it may have been was as close to perfect as she had ever expected. But try as she might, she could no longer touch the piece of herself that had felt that. As she struggled to touch some piece of what they had once shared, Susan saw an image of Fiz's red haired sister. Over and over, Lisi was repeating 'remember'.

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she lay a warm, gentle hand against his left cheek.

"Do you remember the charge your sister gave you, before she left?" Susan asked.

Fiz nodded, tears also beginning to glisten in his eyes.

"_Remember Alex_, Lisi said. Somehow I feel I am tied to that as well, Fiz. Like I cannot be whole again until you have that answer." Tears flowed freely down Susan's cheeks.

"What we had..." Fiz's voice broke.

"I promised you that I would always remember it... treasure it. I can never thank you for what you have done and what you have been for me. But dear Rahd..." Her voice trailed off. How could she tell him. She remembered every feeling of every moment they'd had together. His silly grin when he had first kissed the trunk of her tree. The total seriousness when he had bonded with her after the attack by the minotaur. Sharing his mind while he dueled with Edmund around the fire in the Hag's camp. Every feeling was there and yet she could not touch them.

"It's gone," he whispered.

Susan pulled him into a tight hug. "You have become as dear to me as my own family, Fiz. I will always love you as a brother."

Susan felt his shoulders stiffen and then the dryad pushed away slightly and looked into her eyes.

"You once told me that you did not need any more brothers," he said with a wry grin.

"Nevertheless, my dear dear Rahd. You have become one to me." Susan took his face in her hands and gave him a painfully chaste kiss on the forehead.

"Find Alex," she whispered. "Perhaps when we both know who they are, things can be different."

_4_

An inky darkness swirled about her, rhythmic chants echoing in her ears. Fear and outrage joined forces, overwhelming self control and unleashing her terror filled voice. Bright flames under a coal black cauldron swam through her vision as impenetrable numbness took her. There was the sound of boiling water and then she found herself lying on the grass of a golden meadow.

Her body shot to a sitting position, the echoes of the scream still vibrating in her throat, but the peace of this place quickly soothed her. Lazily she stretched, looking around at the amber grass waving gently under the broad blue sky. A low rumbling came from behind her. A sound both soothing and terrifying. Warily, she turned, finding herself face to face with the intensely hungry stare an immense lion.

Panicked, she cast her senses out, desperately feeling for her tree. A reassurance and safety that she could not find. Chest burning with loss, her breath began to come in ragged gasps. Shoulders slumping, she bowed her head and resigned herself to what the wild beast might do to her physical form, away from the safety of her willow.

Eyes closed, she waited for the cat to attack. It was close enough that she could smell the musky scent of its exhaled breath and feel the warm, moist breeze on her cheeks. She waited, yet nothing happened, save the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. She could feel the heat from the sun, tracking across the sky, but the lion still had not attacked.

Greatly daring, she cracked open one eye.

The Lion sat before her, close enough that her own long, cinnamon hair reached out and tangled with the tawny mane. It was then she noticed that the rumbling from the beast had a catch in it, like unto her own sobs. Blinking her eyes clear, she looked up to see pool sized tears leaking from the Lion's eyes.

"Aslan?"

The hunger in the cat's eyes faded into a twinkle that accompanied the smile pulling at the beast's jaw. With a regal nod, the Great Lion acknowledged the dryad. "Sylsan."

Greatly daring, she reached out and tangled her hand in the coarse fur of his mane. "Then am I?" Syl's voice trailed off.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Turning, he lead her to a copse of trees on a low hill. A cool, clear spring ran from a split boulder, winding through the wood and flowing out across the meadow.

"Sit, drink and rest." His deep voice rumbled.

Syl perched on a flat rock, slowly digging her bare feet into the moist soil. Desperately wishing for roots to spring from her toes and tie her to this beautiful place.

"Not here, child. Here we wait and see if you may return, or if I take you further up beyond this field to my garden." His voice seemed heavy, though the mention of taking residence in the Lion's own garden swelled her heart.

"Is it not your decision? Can we not go there now?" Her voice trembled as she asked the question.

Aslan chuckled. "Do not be in a hurry, my daughter. A test has been set before another of my children and should they pass, then you shall awaken in a new home. Until the task is completed, I ask that you remain within this wood."

The dryad looked up. "Will you not stay here with me, until we know?"

Reaching out, Great Lion pushed his nose gently into her chest. "There is much that is required of me, but I shall be here with you. Always."

Joy swelled to fill Sylsan's chest, replacing the lost connection to her tree as she stood in the quiet glade.

Turning, Aslan slowly walked from beneath the trees and faded into the golden grass.

Syl stayed within the copse, tending the trees. When she was hungry, there was food, thirsty and the cool stream was there. When she was tired, there was a soft, leafy bed beneath one of the trees. The days blended together. The Lion would visit, and though he would tell her nothing of the events that were occurring in the world, his presence was always warm. She basked in the firm knowledge that she would one day, possibly even one day soon, grow in Aslan's great garden.

Awakening from a nap, she found Aslan kneeling beside her.

"My Daughter, it is time."


	31. Homecoming

**A/N:** Thank you my dear dear friends. I know this chapter was promised for delivery last month, but my beta's had school and exams to keep them busy, so just over a month late, here is the final _chapter_ of this story. Though there is still the postscript left to edit and post. Many thanks again to Straitjackit, Petraverd and the gang at TheLionsCall. Look for the Postscript shortly. _...Okay, second upload. As usual, there were edits that I couldn't see until it was online._

**Homecoming**

_1_

She huddled with her brothers, happy tears streaming down all three of their faces. The golden mop of Lucy's hair pushed its way into the middle of the hug and Susan pressed her face into it, smelling the sweet floral scent of the soap her sister used. Her sister's arms twined tightly around the restored queen's waist, reminding her that though Valiant Lu was now a teenager, she was still a young girl. Happy cries rang out from the gathered army and Edmund gave an uncomfortable wriggle. She felt Peter's arm around her back flex as he gave Ed's arm a reassuring squeeze. Sighing happily, she flashed all three of them a tear streaked smile.

The moment was broken by an uncomfortable silence that wobbled outward from those nearest the willow tree. Beneath the shadows of the willow, Aslan and the reborn dryad stepped through the green curtain. Clinging to the lion's mane, she looked fearfully out over the gathered crowd. Her long, light hair tangled briefly in the willow fronds until the Lion guided her forward.

Aslan's eyes swept across the clearing until they met Susan's, piercing her more sharply than one of her own arrows. The last, distant buzz of excitement caused by the Queen's return fell silent. Releasing the grip she had on her brothers, Susan quickly dried the tears from her eyes. With all the grace and dignity she could summon, she walked across the clearing and knelt before the dryad with her head bowed deeply.

To her right, she could hear the Lion's warm, approving purr. "Queen Susan, rise and meet her whom you have saved."

Susan remained staring at the ground. For much of the last month, she had let slip from her mind thought of what the dryad had endured in the making of the hag's potion. She remembered how comforting it was that the tree was her home, how strange it had felt the morning she had awakened in Siandra's willow, and now the dryad before her had to adjust to living in a strange tree far far away from where she had originally rooted. The boon that Susan had been granted had come at great cost to the dryad and she struggled to find the words to express her gratitude.

"I dare not, Aslan." Susan spoke quietly, her vision never rising above the dryad's feet. "Until I have properly thanked her for the gift of this past month."

Susan felt the air shift before her as the dryad too knelt. The tree spirit's cool hands reached out and grasped the Queen's shoulders. Her nose flared at the clean woodsy smell as the dryad leaned in close to whisper acceptance in her ear.

"My Queen, you should not kneel to me. It is my thanks that you are owed for the gift of my life."

Susan looked up to see shimmering tears on the tree spirit's face. Clinging to each other in a strong embrace, the two rose. Susan could feel the subtle warmth of the dryads skin under her own hands. Reaching out, she tangled her right hand in Aslan's mane and stepped around to stand on his left as together, the three of them faced the assembled Narnians.

"Today two of my daughters are restored to me." The Great Lion rumbled.

Susan felt her hand pulled around as the Lion turned his head to face the dryad. "Sylsan, may this grove grow to be as much a home to you as where you once rooted."

Her eyes found Fiz standing beside Lucy. His gaze was locked on the new dryad. Glancing over she could see that Sylsan was returning his stare. A slight pain pulled at her chest. From her memories Susan knew she should feel something more, the look Fiz was giving the dryad was painfully familiar, but there was nothing there. Just an emptiness-- a barely healed-over hole.

"Susan, I know you will use wisely what you have learned this past month. More than any other Daughter of Eve, you are now connected to this land and this land to you."

Lost in the pain of what she was now missing, she barely heard Aslan's voice.

Susan watched as Robur and the other residents of the copse lined up to greet Sylsan. The sun rose higher over the copse. Sweat broke upon her brow, another sensation that she had forgotten in the last month. Her discomfort continued to grow with the day's heat.

Making her excuses, she retreated to the shade at the edge of the woods, taking a seat and watching all of her new friends stepping up to greet their new neighbor. As she watched each of them move forward, the emptiness Susan sensed earlier grew to become a deep sense of loss. Her eyes again filling with tears, she drifted into the silence of the woods beyond the clearing.

_2_

Once more Susan sat on the rocks in the rhododendron circle, the shadow of the ash tree draped across her. Starring at the tree that had held the memory of Fiz's sister, she kicked off her sandals and let her feet dangle in Arisumae's cold stream.

She shivered.

The human Queen remembered being able to taste through the soles of her feet; rich dirt good for growing and crisp water, rich in dissolved minerals and life-giving moisture. Yesterday, the water had felt pleasantly cool, now it was just cold and wet.

Silent tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, sliding coolly across her cheeks before dripping free to soak into her dress. A curl of wind danced through the clearing, teasing a cluster of leaves across the pale blue sky. She reached out with her mind to make it turn and dance over her head, but nothing happened. With a sound like rustling laughter, the breeze darted into the trees, once more leaving her alone.

Susan took a deep, ragged breath. More tears dripped free, though one stubbornly clung to her chin, like it thought it was her last friend and was refusing to abandon her.

She looked through the water at her toes turning blue and tried to make them to feel what they had sensed yesterday. Finally, she pulled her numb feet from the icy water. With awkward steps she stumbled to the tree, leaning against it with every molecule in her body. The unyielding bark steadfastly refusing to let her enter the warm, safe space within.

With a wail, she sagged against the trunk, sobs racking her shoulders.

"Why?" Rough bark scratched her cheek as she pressed her tears into the wood. "I could have stayed a dryad! Why didn't I?"

"You did what you must," Aslan's low, rumbling voice answered her. "Because you knew it was right."

Susan looked over her shoulder at the lion standing in the clearing. Turning away from him, she peeled herself off of the ash tree, stumbling back to the rocks, feeling every pebble and twig as they jabbed at her soft, bare feet. She welcomed the pain as an opportunity to ignore the Lion and refuse the words he had spoken. Silently, he shadowed her movements, never so close as to invade on her grief but there nonetheless.

Collapsing on the stone, she rubbed her sore feet. She felt the ground tremble as the Great Cat slowly walked toward her, settling on the ground and leaning against the rock.

Susan lay face down on the cold stone, ignoring the Lion behind her. Tears soaked the sleeves of her dress as the rock slowly warmed beneath her.

She awoke to the sudden realization that she had dozed off while crying. The shadows had shifted and the hot sun now rained down as the warm stone beneath cradled her as comfortably as her bed at Cair Paravel. She could feel the sadness still tugging at her, but it no longer seemed poised to overwhelm her. She sat up and was pulling on her sandals before she noticed the Lion resting lightly against the stone.

"Aslan." She remembered ignoring him before she'd fallen asleep. Reaching out, she tangled her fingers in the coarse hair of his mane. "I'm sorry. I'm not strong enough for the burden you ask of me."

The Lion stretched languorously and rose to a seated position. "Daughter, I ask nothing of you that I am not willing to help you carry."

"I-- I've a hole in my heart." Her breathing became ragged. Overhead a thick cloud welled in from the west, drifting before the sun, attenuating the sharp colors of the clearing with a watery grayness.

"I knew I was giving up my love for Fiz, but so much else feels like it is missing as well." Pain filled the empty space behind her ribs again as sobs caught at her throat.

Turning, Aslan rested his nose against her chest. His breath seemed to fill the void, leaving no room for the darkness that haunted her. "Susan, your generosity is indeed your most powerful trait. To save my daughter, you gave far more than I had asked of you, even more than you intended to give."

The warmth of his presence spread within then expanded and surrounded her. "You mean that I didn't have to..."

"What is done, cannot be undone, until the very end. So long as you are in Narnia, daughter, you shall be able to touch that piece of yourself that you shared."

Susan thought about how she and Fiz had been able to communicate while bonded. Mentally, she reached out and for a brief moment the Queen felt whole. Looking up she saw a flock of birds gliding on the winds ahead of the coming storm. Distracted, she felt the connection fade and the emptiness grew again.

"It is not a perfect solution, Susan. To be all of who you once were will take strength, dedication and practice." The Lion took a deep breath, his serious expression curling into a smile. "Know this Queen Susan, long after you are gone from this world, that part of you will live on here."

He stood and exhaled on her forehead. Peace flowed over and through her new body as the painful emptiness within her faded to a dull ache.

"It is time, my child, to be going home."

_3_

From the poles high above Cair Paravel's parapets, gay flags rippled noisily on the swelling sea breeze. Cotton-puff clouds drifted before the wind, casting cooling shadows over the vibrant landscape. The brilliant sails of a homeward bound ship glowed against the deep green of the watery horizon. The smell of salt tickled Susan's nose strong enough that she could almost taste it.

Home.

Stone walls and tapestries, courtly dinners and formal councils.

Home.

Moist earth, warm bark and swaying breezes.

Su closed her eyes, shaking the intruding sensations away. Home now stood within sight before her, no matter how she longed for the life she'd been blessed to enjoy for the past month. Home and family. She could see Edmund, riding a bit ahead and chatting amiably with the apothecary. To her right she could hear Peter telling telling the story about his arrival in Soak and the formation of the marshwiggle militia.

Concentrating, she reached out and gathered the missing piece of herself to her again. It felt so good to be whole, but once more, as soon as she felt complete, the sensation began to fade. She coughed lightly from the dust. Winding along the ridge approaching town the army, despite the slow pace of its passage, raised great clouds of it.

Lucy's trilling laughter at Peter's story stopped abruptly, breaking Susan's concentration. Their path had brought them within sight of a deep scar plowed in the tournament grounds. Looking over, she could see the deep pain in her sister's eyes. Reaching across the gap, Susan rested her hand on Lu's shoulder.

"King Elgyn's memory will be honored," Lucy whispered.

"Indeed it shall," Peter answered her.

The nickering of their mounts and the gentle clop of various hooves reverberated in their ears as a homecoming anthem. The road wound down from the gentle hills surrounding the coastal city and its surface changed from packed earth to granite cobblestones.

Tumnus trotted up alongside Lucy's horse. "Your Majesties." He nodded his head briefly.

Lucy's somber expression brightened. "What news, Mr. Tumnus?"

"The best, Queen Lucy. Pomona is coming to examine the box. She may even arrive at the castle before we do." The faun replied.

Susan smiled as the two old friends chatted excitedly. Looking up the line, she spied General Orieus, his normally ramrod straight shoulders seemed bowed and his movements lacked their usual crisp precision. He walked alone, off to one side of the column. Susan latched onto a last piece of her old self before it could completely slip away and with a nod to Peter, she eased her mount into a canter. She passed her brother Edmund who was in deep conversation with Tiaana, and advanced up the line, only reining in when she was alongside the Centaur.

"General." She nodded.

"Queen Susan." He bowed his head to her while maintaining pace.

"I. I haven't thanked you yet." She reached a hand out to the centaur.

"Milady, I nearly lost you three times over this past month, I hardly think that there is anything to thank me for." His voice came out sounding a bit bitter.

"General." Susan's sharp tone of command seemed to snap out of nowhere.

Orieus' human back stiffened and his eyes grew wide at the reprimand in her voice.

"No matter what new obstacle was thrown in your path, you did not stop _trying_ to find, save and defend me! If your perseverance and loyalty is not sufficient for my thanks." Susan paused, taking a deep breath she gripped the centaur's arm tightly. "Whatever you may believe, I would not be here now if it were not for you."

Susan closed her eyes, letting the tension roll out of her shoulders. When she next spoke, it was as a quiet whisper that she knew would not reach beyond the centaur's keen ears. "In the last month, I have learned that it is not the expected, but the unexpected by which we are truly measured. And by that gage, General, you are indeed worthy of my thanks."

_4_

Susan had dismissed her ladies in waiting for the night. Her nightgown scratched against her tender skin as she extinguished the unnecessary candles in the room. She had spent the afternoon concentrating hard on holding both pieces of herself together and she was exhausted. As the connection faded to nothing, she found that her memories of the last month were becoming foggy. While a dryad had she even worn clothes or had what she thought were clothes merely been an extension of her skin? All she really remembered was that they did not scratch and itch like the gown she was wearing.

She pulled at the collar and plucked the sleeves as she sat down at her vanity. Reaching up, she pulled her long, dark hair over her right shoulder and stared at it in the mirror. It lay straight, running almost all the way to her lap. Running her hands along it she realized that she missed the tiny leaves that had been part of her hair as a dryad. They had given it a texture and life that now seemed to be missing. Perhaps she should try curling it. Soft ringlets might be attractive.

"Attractive?" She whispered. "Why not?"

Susan smiled slightly as, in the mirror, she watched her door swing open slowly and Lucy slipped into the room.

"Well, that did not take you very long." Susan chuckled, reaching for her hairbrush.

Lucy's expression was somber as she approached the vanity. "Susan, I can never make it up to you. The Hags wanted me."

"It's okay, Lu. I am me again." Susan started to rise from her chair.

Lucy lay a hand on Susan's shoulder. "No, Su. This time, it is your turn." In her other hand, Lucy had a silver and gold hairbrush, its dark glossy bristles glinting in the candlelight.

Susan sat back down and Lucy slowly went to work brushing out her sister's hair.

"You know about that box I went to Terebinthia to get." Lucy asked quietly.

"Mmm hmm." Susan hummed as her sister gently pulled the brush through her hair. "The one with the fruit from the tree of protection."

"It held more than just the dried fruit." Lucy undid the upper braids from her sister's hair as she spoke. "It also held seeds from that last harvest."

Susan stared at her reflection in the mirror as her sister continued to brush out the day's braids and tangles.

"Pomona came to take a look at them."

Susan glanced into the mirror, meeting Lucy's eyes. "Pomona? Oh, I wish I'd had a chance to talk to her while I was still a dryad."

Lucy met Susan's wistful expression. "She intends to apologize to you tomorrow for not being at Robur's glade. Right before we plant the seeds."

"Plant them?" Susan's head jerked as Lucy pulled through a tangle.

"Pomona says they are all still viable, and Lilygloves has the gardening staff already laying out an orchard on the south slope." Lucy answered.

An orchard. Susan's thoughts ran to how she might be able to help the resident dryads care for the trees. She might not have their healing abilities any longer but she still had the desire.

"Mr. Tumnus has also received notice that an ambassadorial delegation from Calormen is due in a few days. Supposedly, one of the ambassador's aides is a son of the Tisroc." Lucy giggled.

Susan smiled up at her sister, reading her giggles as warning of yet another princely supplicant. Somehow, this time the thought of a suitor didn't seem to have the same dire weight as the times before. She once more focused on her vanity, maybe she should look into getting more makeup.

"Lu? How do you think I would look with curls?"


	32. Postscript November 23rd 1963

A/N: Postscript dedicated to Lickitysplit for asking the right question at the right time! What you have read was started as a prequel to my story "Magic: A Chronicle of Mimasu" (If you choose to read it, please know that as of this date, that story remains unbetaed and unedited). Many thanks to my loyal beta reader Straitjackit who has put up with so much from me during this process! A comprehensive thank you to everyone appears at the bottom of this chapter.

**Postscript**

**November 23rd, 1963**

_1_

Gray clouds scudded across the sky, casting a variable, watery light through the high, arched windows of the professor's office. Bathed in the yellow glow of his desk lamp, the young Doctor of English Literature stared silently at the papers spread before him. His shoulders hung heavily as he scribbled the occasional comment in the margins of each page with his red ink pen.

On the wall behind him, among the photographs of his wife, young son and diplomas from the Oxford College he'd attended on an international scholarship, hung a signed photo from his mentor. In a sprawling hand the note read: _"Al – Best of luck with your American university students. - Jack"._

The light shifted as the clouds got thicker, then thinned out again. Looking up at the play of shadows across the office, the professor felt as if he were at the bottom of a deep pool as the thick water and waves above dimmed and darkened the happy sunlight into something mournful. On the back corner of the cheap wood desk sat the room's one modern convenience, a transistor radio. Its molded silver plastic garish against the dark wood tones of the academic's office.

The broadcast briefly dissolved into static, recovering as thunder rumbled outside the building. Catching in the metal frame of the windows and rattling the glass, it boomed hollowly off the near empty rooms within. Briefly drowning out the sad music the station had chosen for a lead-in for the day's newscasts, the deep crash's echo slowly faded to silence.

_"The British Monarch, Queen Elizabeth, extended her condolences to the American people on the death yesterday of President Kennedy. In other news out of Britain..."_

Professor Temple sat up slowly, reaching across the papers, he switched off the radio. He'd been a child during the war and his memories briefly went back to 1945 and the way his mother and father had sat at the kitchen table in their clapboard farmhouse and cried when news of President Roosevelt's death had been announced. Now another President had died while in office, one far too young and with far too much promise. He glanced out the window, even the sun and moon were hiding their faces in grief today.

"Depressing," he muttered.

The school was officially closed today. He sighed deeply, grading papers had seemed like a far better way to spend his day than sitting in his living room staring at the walls while the radio played dirges. His mind just wouldn't stay focused. He'd felt like this once before, back in 1940, after his accident. The sense of loss he thought he'd finally managed to put behind him when he'd gotten married reared its head again.

Out his window, across the campus umbrellas began to appear among the different gatherings of mourners. Some were just small knots of friends, others were more organized, the Greek organizations and clubs coming and going en mass. The chancellor had a memorial service scheduled for tomorrow, but there was already a line of students filing in and out of the campus chapel. Even washed out by the gray light, the bright fall colorings stood in stark contrast to the dark clothing everyone seemed to have chosen to wear today. As the wind ahead of the storm picked up, leaves began to tear free from the trees, drifting into eddies behind the buildings and falling to the ground like tears.

He turned back to grading the papers from his Composition and Criticism class. _Select book from the below list... Identify it's primary plot. Identify at least two secondary themes. Defend your selections. Minimum length two pages for plot, one page each for secondary themes._

The pop and splatter of raindrops tattooed against the large windows. As the watery drumbeat slowly built the shadows became darker until the professor was left with only the small circle of yellow light centered on his desk. About halfway through the stack of papers his head drifted downward, alighting on his left arm. He dozed off. As he slept, he revisited a dream that had haunted him for years after the severe accident he'd had as a boy.

Once more he was a young teen, running alongside a brook in the woods...

_2_

He came around a copse of rhododendron and saw her sitting by the brook, right where Ari had said she would be. Her back was to him as she sat starring at the tall ash tree he had planted long ago beside that stream. Reaching out with his mind he let her know that he was there for her. Her body stiffened at the contact then slumped again, her head nodding him forward.

She was the most beautiful creature in all of Narnia. Her creamy skin could blush the most beautiful shade of green. He looked down at the golden flush in his own arms from the running. As he approached, he noticed that her face was marred by the tracks of tears, and great sobs were wracking her body.

He sat down beside her and gathered her head to his shoulders.

"There, there. Your family has returned. Why do you weep, My Little Willow?" Sunlight flickered through the leaves of the ash tree, landing around them in dancing pools. He kissed her forehead gently as he cradled her in his arms.

"Rahd, hold me," she placed her hand on his heart, "hold me here. Promise, no matter what, that you won't let me go."

Tears flowed freely from Susan's eyes, soaking the shoulder of Rahd's tunic. He reached up and grabbed the hand she had placed on his chest, pressing it there tightly.

"You have my solemn vow." He smiled at her. "Your friends sent me to tell you they are almost ready. Cheer up! In a little while, you will be who you were before."

"No dearest, I will never be who I was before. I've been a tree! I've felt the love of every creature that has come within the shade of my branches." She paused. "I... I need..."

He felt the bondlink open up as the dryad in his arms shared herself with him completely. Her mind pushed fully into his, sweeping him up and escorting him through the memories of her life. She showed him the little house in Finchley and her parents. The war and bombings and the country manor. Lucy finding the wardrobe. Susan flooded him with her hopes, her dreams and her gentle love for everyone she met. Her talk with Aslan was there and choices before her. And then, sudden as it had begun, it faded. He felt his own tears as in his mind his denial merged with hers.

Before he could react, she leaned over and gave him a long, lingering kiss, firmly on the lips.

"I've chosen to leave the best part of myself here." Rahd felt her body stiffen with determination. "My tree will live. I will help resurrect the poor dryad who was sacrificed in the potion that made me like this."

"Humans and dryads have been together before." He had to argue the point, he couldn't just surrender what they had together. "The sons of Frank and Helen married into our kind at the beginning of the world."

Now she was the one who had to comfort him. She pulled him tight as they cried together.

"Rahd, the part of me that I'm leaving here is the piece that loves you! I know I'll have fond memories of our time together, but... I don't want to give up this love!"

"My sweet sweet Willow..." He took a ragged breath, fighting down the urge to sob. He ground his jaw together, forcing himself back into control. "In that case, know now that I will never stop loving you. The whole you. What you leave behind, and what you take when you leave. I will help care for your tree so long as my own stands."

"Fisrahd Ashe, you are like no being I have ever met." The Willow Dryad smiled wistfully, then kissed him again. A far too short eternity later they separated and she returned to the clearing.

Sitting upon the rock by Arisumae's stream, silent tears coursed down his face as he watched Susan walk out of his life.

"Someday young Ashe, your opportunity will come." A deep voice purred beside him.

He turned to see the Great Lion standing there.

"Then why do I feel that I just let it leave?"

Standing he walked over to the tree that had held Lisi's memory, gently he lay his hand against the trunk, stretching his memories to feel the comfort his sister had once shared with him.

"In her world, a wise man once said that you must be willing to let go of that which you love. If she truly belongs by your side, then you will be together again. Somewhere."

Fisrahd looked up at Aslan. "Somewhere?"

"That is not for me to share." The Lion turned back toward the clearing, then glanced back at the distraught dryad. "You will know, however... ...when the time is right."

_3_

The professor awoke with a start. He could feel the crease running down his cheek where it had rested on the edge of the desk pad. Reaching into his bottom desk drawer, he pulled out a bound stack of papers. Carefully he traced his hand along the title, centered on the page. A scrawled note in the same hand as that on the photograph behind him drew his eye, as it always did when he pulled out this particular document.

_Alexander,_

_I am honored that you have chosen to share this with me. I had thought that there were no other sources to which I could still turn for news such as this. I thank you deeply._

_-Jack_

Carefully straightening the pages, he wrapped them with a folder and put them in his briefcase. Nodding to the smaller stack of ungraded essays remaining on his desk, he crossed the room, locked his door and walked home. The damp smell of the fall rainstorm hung over the campus as he crossed the quad. Gently he dragged his hand along the trunk of the tall ash tree that stood sentinel over the grounds.

"Take care friend, I shall see you in a few days," he whispered quietly.

The walk home went quickly and he soon found himself standing before a small cottage. The white picket fence was edged around the inside by a flower garden that he and his wife tended with care equal to that they gave their young son. The neat, yellow house seemed sharper and somehow more real than the other houses on their street. It's colors more crisp, the grass just a bit richer. He shook his head, surely home was like that for everyone.

"Honey?" he called as he came through the door. Not hearing an answer he dropped his coat and briefcase in the study, but not before removing the stack of papers he'd taken from his desk.

He found her in the living room. The small applewood chest that had been a wedding gift from the man who'd introduced them sat open on the coffee table. Seven books and numerous letters were scattered on the table around the chest. As he approached, he noticed that her face was marred by the tracks of tears, and great sobs were wracking her body.

He sat down beside her and gathered her head to his shoulders.

"Darling?" He left the query hanging in the air.

She gestured to the books and letters on the table. "Jack is dead."

Grief driven pain lanced through his chest. Denial warred with the idea that he would never again speak with his mentor.

"Jack!?" He staggered against the back of the sofa and leaned there heavily for a moment.

"I heard it on the radio earlier. They were talking about the Queen sending her condolences, and then they said '...the author, Clive Staples Lewis, died yesterday'." Another great sob racked her body. "He was the last connection to my family, and now he's gone too."

Her words rattled around in his mind, 'last connection to her family'. No, that wasn't true. His wife's denials had always kept him from sharing this one secret with her. But now, perhaps that was why he'd had the dream again. It had been so many years since he'd last dreamed that particular dream.

He sat on the couch and held her while she cried. Tears ran from his own eyes as he thought of the kind professor he'd worked for as a graduate student in medieval literatures. He looked at the titles of the books on the table. '_You will know, however... ...when the time is right.'_

"My love, I'm going to ask you something and it might hurt, but answer honestly, okay?"

His wife looked up puzzled.

He gestured to the books. "I've read the notes Jack wrote to you in each of these. I know your family shared these stories with him. Where did they come from?"

"We... we ma... it was mak... Oh! I can't do this anymore!" She sobbed again.

Susan's voice rose as a low wail. "It was real! Narnia was real! I can't deny it any longer."

He hugged his wife gently, carefully dried the tears from her eyes with a handkerchief from his pocket then placed the folder in her lap.

"I know it was real Susan," he whispered gently into her hair. "I have waited longer than a lifetime for you to want to remember."

She looked down, lifting the top of the manila folder to find a story title sheet.

"_The Life of Fisrahd Ashe - Tree Spirit of Narnia. _by Alexander Temple," she read out loud.

She looked at him. Her eyes traced the lines of his face. She suddenly saw what it was about him that had really connected with her eight years before. Comprehension dawned.

"Alex... Rahd?"

He placed his hand over her heart.

"Seven hundred and sixty-four years as a dryad, my sweet little Willow. You were, and are my only true love." Alex answered.

"I remember your siblings Su." He placed his other hand against his own chest. "They and Jack live here now. _We_ shall not forget them, my Queen."

Outside the window, sunlight reflected golden off the fall foliage while the purr of little Peter's snoring drifted in from the next room.

_**Credits:**_

_I want to take this moment to say thank you to the following people for their love and support during the twenty-five months that this story has been in progress._

_**My family:** Mom, Dad, Angela and Lee_

_**My wonderful beta readers during this endeavor:** Straitjackit, Petraverd, Squeaklebeep, and Simetra_

_All of my friends at www. thelionscall. com and in particular the participants in the eInklings: Online Writing Group that meets in the chatroom there on monday nights._

**_Those who have placed my story on your alerts list:_**

_Am Moonstone, Cass Perenelle, E.C.Peters, Elora Potter_

_Faithfulpurelight, Holy Wolf, Jill G. Lowrey, JediMasterMiraxHorn_

_Katako-Chan, Kira88, Lightblinde, Manwatheil Stormbuddy_

_Narnian Princess, Pesterfield, audreypod94 ,fantomdranzerx_

_floppyearsthebunny, het2468, katyclismic, imakeladrygirl_

_lickitysplit, magicole of fire, narniafriend, phoenixsoaring_

_rmiller92, straitjackit_

**_Those who have placed my story on your favorites list:_**

_Am Moonstone, Arael Lassie, Clouded Horizon, E.C.Peters_

_Eilwyn, Elavie, Faithfulpurelight, Holy Wolf_

_Katako-Chan, Kitten Black, Lady Lost-A-Lot, Magister Archive_

_Narnian Princesss, Petraverd, Star Future, Manwathiel Stormbuddy_

_Swanwhite2, aquarel, dares to dream, fantomdranzerx_

_floppyearsthebunny, ngrey651, straitjackit _

**_The following C2 communities for including this story:_**

_Most Noble Order of the Loyal Friends of Narnia_

_My Narnian Stories_

_Treasure of the Blind Swordsman_

**_Those who have been so kind as to review – In order of appearance:_**

_Katyclismic, ??, straitjackit, lickitysplit_

_fantomdranzerx, elecktrum, imakeladrygirl, Kelsey Estel the TolkieNarnian_

_Eilwyn, Lightblinde, Cass Perenelle, Encrypted Pseudonym_

_Aslan13, vefa, Smoltenica, audreypod94_

_Treefrog, Petraverd, Clouded Horizon, Blondie- It wasn't me_

_floppyearsthebunny, Katako-Chan, E.C.Peters, Permanent Rose_

_Swanwhite2, Niffum, Faithfulpurelight, Val Evenstar_

_Jill G. Lowrey, Monkwy, Lirenel, Manwathiel Stormbuddy_

_Elavie, Miniver, Dearheart, dares to dream_

_Thank you all for giving me the confidence, the desire and the inspiration to continue writing. _

_Before today, I was a writer but today... _

_Today I hold my head high and call myself _

_an **Author.**_


End file.
